I love my cycle. Not a motorcycle, not a calendar cycle, not a weather cycle, but my monthly cycle.
Why? When I first got my period, I was 11 and started before all of my friends. I had no one to talk to about it. I would even say it was embarrassing for me. In fact, I didn’t even tell my mom. I just kept sneaking her maxi pads until one day I was in so much pain I lay on my bed crying. Then, I was “caught.” I never had a serious talk with her about it. Inside I hated it. I was already taller than my classmates, developing back in the 4th grade. Starting my cycle only made it worse.
Then in junior high, all the girls were pretty much caught up to each other, and actually NOT having gotten your first period yet was extremely rare. Having your period became something not of shame, but of pride.
Our cycles meant we were all physically women, and no matter how different we all thought we were from each other, it was something that we all had in common. I’d even say it was something to bond over. The other girls in my high school baton twirling squad synchronized our periods and it was something we were tickled by. I’d read somewhere that this happens to women who spend a lot of time together. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but when the first of us announced that her period started, we knew that we would start within the next two or three days. It was like clockwork.