How Puberty Showed Me the Many Perspectives of Truth

A healthy mother-daughter relationship? (Image courtesy of worldofmiri.com)

Beware of assumptions

Everyone perceives the world through their unique filters and lenses based on personality, life experiences, and background.

I believe that in oneness, only one truth exists but this over-arching truth is divided into infinite parts, depending on which angle an issue is looked at. Truth seems different from each perspective.

What do I mean by this? Let me tell how this showed up in my life.

When we had children, we committed to being open with them about issues relating to puberty, body changes, sexuality, and whatever else growing up entails.

I cannot recall having these talks in my family when I was a child, which could be true from my perspective and seen differently from my parents’ point of view. Regardless of this, I made the conscious choice of approaching any topic openly. This did not entail pushing any topics, but being honest and acknowledging our human nature. Turning from a child into an adult is a huge challenge but also a normal process. Every human being goes through this.

With our daughter, I specifically spoke about what it would be like when she got her first period. We had shopped for period underwear and reusable pads which were sitting in her bathroom cabinet. I told her it was better to be prepared than unprepared. I explained to her the value of our cycles and how they can be a catalyst for getting in touch with our intuition and our femininity. I explained to her how our cycle was part of a miracle; the miracle of being able to give birth. I brought this up on various occasions, whenever it fitted the atmosphere and our general conversations.

I’d tried my best, and still thought I was the worst mother

The items were sitting in her cabinet for months. I didn’t think about them. Then, one day, I realized she must have had her first period. I only noticed because the period underwear was in the laundry. First, I was in shock while trying to process what must have happened. This was a big step. My girl was growing up. She was officially on the threshold of womanhood. And she had not told me. I felt grief wash through me. My mind frantically worked to make sense of the story. I had tried so hard. Had I not hit the right words with her? Had I not gained her confidence? Did she feel uncomfortable talking about these topics with me, her mum? Would she prefer to speak with someone else, maybe her friends or another female adult? Where had I gone wrong with this? Should I have said more? Should I have done more?

I calmed my breath and rushed to speak to my daughter. I hugged her tightly and asked her if she’d just had her first period. She confirmed. I held her and asked her whether I had not been the right person to talk to. She looked at me—a bit confused—and said that “of course I was the right person to talk to”. I asked her to promise me to approach me with any questions. After all, figuring out the “logistics” needs some knowledge and help.

Another self-awareness lesson to learn

A few days later, when talking to a group of close female friends of mine, I recounted the event. I explained how I had felt grief because I hadn’t managed to live up to my standards.

My friends heard me out. One of them asked, “Did you ever ask her to tell you when it happened?” I hadn’t.

The other one said, “I’d say, congratulations, and well done. Your daughter obviously felt so well-prepared and comfortable with the situation she simply took it in her own hands. She treated it as the most normal thing and she didn’t even bother telling you.”

Maybe she was right? I had not even considered this possibility. Instead, I had interpreted the incident through my own personal filter. I’d made assumptions without allowing myself to leave space for a different truth. Now, I saw there was another way of seeing this: Maybe I had succeeded with what I wanted to achieve? Maybe my story-craving-mind had not allowed me to see this?

One of our goals was to raise our kids to be independent and take on responsibility. Maybe this was exactly what she’d done?

When I checked in with my daughter, she confirmed. It had simply not occurred to her to talk to me. She’d felt comfortable. She knew what was going to happen and she dealt with it.

I smiled and I suddenly felt very proud.

I know I still have work to do with handling how my mind creates assumptions and automatically fills in the blanks. I wonder how often things are different to what they seem to me.

I want to stay open-minded, and here I have an opportunity for real growth.