At the tender age of nine, childhood had ended and womanhood began. And at nine years old, the Red Sea bursted out of me.

I remember that moment, that day very vividly. I was in grade school and it was recess time. I was chatting it up with my friend Anamarie and another girl who is long gone from my memory. (Sorry, girl.) Anamarie asked us if we would walk with her to the bathroom. I went inside the bathroom stall because I needed to go tinkle too. I wore panties emblazoned with a picture of Barney. And there it was, Mother Nature in my Barney undies. At the time, I panicked. What is this? Am I sick? Did I just caca on myself? You want to know what I did? I pulled my panties up like nothing happened. Of course, for the rest of the day that is all I could think about. When I got home, I changed my underwear. But I knew I had to tell my mom—definitely not my dad so, I showed my mom the panties and asked her what it was. She was so composed about it, she said something similar to “Oh, yeah. You got your period.” That was it? Ugh…I deserve an explanation! (And, no I never had the “period talk” with my mom.) So, I was flabbergasted, rightfully so. How did she forget to tell me that blood was going to come out of me at some point or another? Really? How did this slip your mind, woman! She finally took me to my bedroom along with my sister (for additional support) and thoroughly explained to me about menstruation. I wanted to crawl into a ball. I didn’t want the pubes or the boobs to follow. I wanted to play outside with my friends. I didn’t want to have to worry about changing a diaper-pad. I didn’t want to grow up. But I had to face her, I had to face Mother Nature. Mother Nature sworn me in without a warning in advance. Check out my sworn in statement into womanhood: “I do solemnly swear that I will accept the Red Sea flow, pubes, and tits. And I will do the best of my ability to preserve and care for my vagina.”

Bye, bye childhood. Hello, womanhood?