Last month I wrote about what I would tell the ten-year-old girl in my life about menstruation. This would be my first conversation about it with her.
I really appreciated the supportive responses that I received in the comments and offline!
I was nervous about it. Your participation helped me to move forward.
Some of you asked me to tell you how it went…
I’m not going to.
Maybe it went well. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was a long talk, and kind of delicious to get that time with her, or maybe it ended abruptly. Maybe we hugged, suffered long silences, or laughed each other silly. Maybe I drew diagrams and she was the art director. Maybe she’s avoiding me now.
It doesn’t matter.
Because the point is – even more than to start talking – to keep talking. Not to look for done. Not to hope for done.
Just to say what you have to say; ask questions, reveal what matters to you, and stay.
Knowing that it’s not over. If it didn’t go “well”, that’s just a moment in time.
Remember why you wanted to have this talk – why you wanted her to have this information – why you wanted her to trust you with her questions and opinions.
If it went well, that’s just a moment in time. You don’t know what will happen next.
Her body-experiences, social experiences, ideas, needs and wants are going to change change change.
Done doesn’t exist in our world of human bodies.
Maybe I gave a really “good” talk and it still sucked for her. Maybe my girl’s poised reception of my seriously-delivered speech is not a possibility for either of you. Don’t worry about that.
I’m not telling you how it went because I don’t want our story leading to dos and don’ts, cues to take, and pitfalls to avoid. All that is useful, but I want to stay general for a moment, and, in the absence of specifics, to appreciate on the ongoing, evolving nature of
talking about,
and being,
a human body.
