
I really wish I'd had a book on what it means to become a woman when I was 12. The only text I had was Judy Blume's generation defining book, Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. I wish that some one would have told me that my cycles would be erratic for a couple of years, not just in spacing, but in flow. Finding that out at a slumber party in the 8th grade was a deeply embarrassing experience (imagine having to knock on your friend's parents' bedroom door in the middle of the night, because … [Read more...]





























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