That summer, we were all set to spend a weekend at Lake Malawi – it’s a beautiful place and I think it is easily one of the most beautiful places in the whole wide world. I loved to swim there and it was a place where I felt like no one could take away such unadulterated happiness from me. Almost like basking in golden sunshine.

And just then, my first period conversation took place.

To be honest, I had been looking forward to getting my periods. You see, in school, where all that the girls talked about was periods, who was dating whom and what was happening with their bodies, I was the odd one out. I hadn’t gotten my period, didn’t date anyone and had nothing to say about my body. I felt and looked like an absolute kid and other girls treated me with disdain.

Yet nothing prepared me for the unexpected gush of discomfort that marked the onset of this new phase. This is when I did something historic – something which I doubt Indian daughters would dare to do at times like this. With tears in my eyes, I went and spoke about it to my father. Yeah, that’s right – my father was the first person in my life to hear about my first periods from me. Usually, in most Indian homes, it is the mother who gets to know first and she then tells the father discreetly. How I love breaking these norms, I tell you!

Anyway, let me get back to that tear-filled moment.

Dad listened to everything calmly. Oh yes, there’s one important fact that you need to know about my father. He’s a doctor first and he’s always been a doctor. Period.

So he listened to everything and calmly said, “But why are you upset? Talk to your mother about this, share the news with her and she will help you understand what needs to be done.”

I was oh-so-cross.

“What? / We are going to the beach…how can I swim in my swimsuit? / My weekend is ruined! / My friends will hate me…!”
I am not related to Ekta Kapoor, Queen of Indian middle class family soaps, but I could have given her a run for her money during my teenage years with such gnawing doubts.

“Oh, so that is what you are upset about – the Lake Malawi trip!”
Ah, now my Dad gets it.

He puts aside his newspaper with that serene smile and says, “Don’t worry. This is not an illness to fear or something that will ruin your activities forever; it’s a biological indication that you are growing into a woman. Which also means that with great responsibility comes great power.” He took out a medical book and showed me a chapter discussing what happens to a woman’s body during pregnancy.

“Read it when you have the time. This explains everything you should know about your body. Most importantly, treat your body with respect and sanctity. Your culture and your beliefs are different from that of many of your friends. What they do does need not be your way of life. Do you understand? If you have questions, ask me or your mother anytime. We are there for you, okay? Now let’s finish packing, we start driving in an hour….”

Looking back, what I realize is that this was a life-changing and important moment for any girl’s life. My father transformed it into a natural and biological transition instead of making it a cultural one. His inputs were sensible and hit the right notes, without being preachy at any point. He demonstrated his trust and respect for me as a growing individual – to take care of my body, treat it as a sacred space and take charge of the changes within me; he upheld a stance founded upon respect and his outlook was one of poise.

I am grateful to my father for teaching me not to be ashamed or petrified about ‘issues’ like my first period – this conversation remains one of the most memorable vignettes from my life.

I had nothing to fear by ‘becoming’ a woman. My father taught me that none of my dreams had to be put on hold.

“Embrace life to the fullest, but treat your body and yourself with the respect that it deserves.”That is what my Dad the doctor taught me. But most importantly, he taught me not to be ashamed of having my periods and let me know that it was okay to open up and talk with your parents about something that is culturally a taboo – a woman’s periods.

Swapna Author: Swapna Raghu Sanand
Swapna is the author of Tryst with Divinity, Pearl of Divinity & Blossoms (An Anthology of Poems). Her writings are based on her personal spiritual experiences.
She blogs at Petals

Editor: Divya Rosaline

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