Shame's cousin
It took me a really long time to realize that shame was my primary motivator during childhood, teen years... even now if I don't fight back against it. I was deeply ashamed of how different and broken my family was. How different and broken I was. Back then, very few of my peers had been through anything. I was acutely aware that I had baggage, while others didn't. I didn't know how girl going into womanhood things worked and developed an intense shame about those things that I still have to peel off periodically in my older age.
But this isn't about that shame. That shame is something I talk to my therapist and friends about. What I'm here to write about is shame's cousin: embarrassment. Because I have enough distance that these moments are funny instead of humiliating.
Let's start at the top of my embarrassing moment list (I hope it will stay at the top because anything worse than this might literally kill me). Trigger warning for periods and water parks. You know this is going to be bad with those trigger warnings. I was 13 when I started getting my period. Being motherless, I knew I would have to go to my father about this issue... which was a humiliation I could not stand. Most people would have realized that there was no way of permanently putting off womanhood, but I was tenuous. I dug my feet in. In did my own laundry and got really good at washing out blood stains. To avoid buying pads, I bunched toilet paper into a pad shape. Then the waterpark trip came and so did my fucking period. I wasn't a complete idiot and I knew I couldn't use toilet paper while at a water park. But I'd figured out if I was in water the problem dissipated-- Sorry if that's disgustingly horrifying. Pools are a million times grosser than we think. So, my plan for the day was to remove the toilet paper bunch and spend all my time in the water. Again, I'm sorry. I know that's gross.
My plan worked until the "Voyage to the Center of the Earth" ride line... Which was 2 hours. I couldn't leave the line. I was standing with my cousin and best friend holding our giant tube. There were some cute boys from the church group in front of us. Oh yeah, this was a middle school church trip. I thought I could will myself not to bleed. Surely my body would realize the importance of this moment on some evolutionary level, right? Nope. An hour in and I had blood... emerging. We didn't have towels because we were about to go on a waterslide ride. I thought if I used the tube, I could hide my lower half from view. That worked okay until my best friend, bored of the line started rough housing. I don't remember how or why (they say you lose time before and after a trauma) but she pushed me and I fell onto the boys tube in front of us. Jelly side down. I popped back up and everyone continued their conversations, but I could see I'd marked their tube.
Fortunately, we were close to the front and the line moved before anyone noticed that marked side of the tube. It was only when the boys reached the entrance to the waterslide that the blood was discovered. They pretended not to remember I'd fallen on their tube and I pretended I was dead. They washed the blood off and got in talking about AIDs in the way most classy Middle School boys do. I spent most of the rest of the day in the Lazy River, floating and wishing I would drown like the Lady of Shallot.
I'd like to say this traumatized me into telling my father I had my period and we needed a solution. I didn't, but my cousin did. Actually she told her mom (because she had one) and then her mom told my dad. He is the best and bought me a Costco sized supply of pads so we could talk about periods as little as possible. He left his copy of Stephen King's Carrie with them. I read it and realized two things: there is something worse than having no mother and that water park was lucky I don't have telekinesis.
But this isn't about that shame. That shame is something I talk to my therapist and friends about. What I'm here to write about is shame's cousin: embarrassment. Because I have enough distance that these moments are funny instead of humiliating.
Let's start at the top of my embarrassing moment list (I hope it will stay at the top because anything worse than this might literally kill me). Trigger warning for periods and water parks. You know this is going to be bad with those trigger warnings. I was 13 when I started getting my period. Being motherless, I knew I would have to go to my father about this issue... which was a humiliation I could not stand. Most people would have realized that there was no way of permanently putting off womanhood, but I was tenuous. I dug my feet in. In did my own laundry and got really good at washing out blood stains. To avoid buying pads, I bunched toilet paper into a pad shape. Then the waterpark trip came and so did my fucking period. I wasn't a complete idiot and I knew I couldn't use toilet paper while at a water park. But I'd figured out if I was in water the problem dissipated-- Sorry if that's disgustingly horrifying. Pools are a million times grosser than we think. So, my plan for the day was to remove the toilet paper bunch and spend all my time in the water. Again, I'm sorry. I know that's gross.
My plan worked until the "Voyage to the Center of the Earth" ride line... Which was 2 hours. I couldn't leave the line. I was standing with my cousin and best friend holding our giant tube. There were some cute boys from the church group in front of us. Oh yeah, this was a middle school church trip. I thought I could will myself not to bleed. Surely my body would realize the importance of this moment on some evolutionary level, right? Nope. An hour in and I had blood... emerging. We didn't have towels because we were about to go on a waterslide ride. I thought if I used the tube, I could hide my lower half from view. That worked okay until my best friend, bored of the line started rough housing. I don't remember how or why (they say you lose time before and after a trauma) but she pushed me and I fell onto the boys tube in front of us. Jelly side down. I popped back up and everyone continued their conversations, but I could see I'd marked their tube.
Fortunately, we were close to the front and the line moved before anyone noticed that marked side of the tube. It was only when the boys reached the entrance to the waterslide that the blood was discovered. They pretended not to remember I'd fallen on their tube and I pretended I was dead. They washed the blood off and got in talking about AIDs in the way most classy Middle School boys do. I spent most of the rest of the day in the Lazy River, floating and wishing I would drown like the Lady of Shallot.
I'd like to say this traumatized me into telling my father I had my period and we needed a solution. I didn't, but my cousin did. Actually she told her mom (because she had one) and then her mom told my dad. He is the best and bought me a Costco sized supply of pads so we could talk about periods as little as possible. He left his copy of Stephen King's Carrie with them. I read it and realized two things: there is something worse than having no mother and that water park was lucky I don't have telekinesis.