Updated: Aug. 3, 2016
Originally Published: June 17, 2005
This spring, my son’s school held a puberty seminar. He came home with a booklet, watched a video, and learned all about the changes he would experience. As I sat in the dimly lit auditorium, surrounded by other parents and their anxious tweens, I couldn’t help but be flooded with memories of my own puberty journey.
What a delightful way to spend a Tuesday night, right?
Remember those awkward middle school health classes? The boys would giggle, toss spitballs, and sketch exaggerated, anatomically incorrect drawings to mask their embarrassment, while we girls would doodle hearts with our crushes’ initials. Nothing quite says romance like cartoon anatomy displayed on an overhead projector!
But the video was far from what we anticipated. There was no actual nudity or any realistic portrayal of human anatomy—just cheerful cartoon figures! Instead of confirming the bizarre claims we’d heard from older siblings about puberty, all we got were clips of girls frolicking through fields and boys shooting hoops, narrated in a monotone voice discussing “your magnificent, changing body.”
Definitely not awkward at all.
The materials we received in the 1980s either glamorized, sugarcoated, or outright misrepresented puberty and sex. We were shown half-dressed animated sperm and eggs, which, in a comical twist, were dressed for a wedding and collided to create a giant baby. After that, talking to our parents about sex suddenly seemed appealing.
After the film, we would participate in a question-and-answer session, where we’d laugh nervously and typically refrain from asking anything. Thankfully, our teacher collected questions on tiny slips of paper, which we folded multiple times before tossing into a bucket. The tension would build as she selected questions at random, unfolding them slowly. The awkwardness was palpable.
“Can I bleed to death when I get my period?” we’d laugh, even though we weren’t entirely sure that wasn’t possible. Our older sisters had shared tales of a friend-of-a-friend’s cousin who had experienced such a tragedy.
Once puberty was covered, our brave teacher would shift to the subject of sex. We all leaned in, eager yet anxious, to hear about the new feelings we were starting to experience. We tried to appear uninterested while absorbing every juicy detail. Occasionally, there would be a video, showing cartoon characters that vaguely resembled our parents engaging in what looked like an awkward and painful encounter. “Can you say penis? Can you say vagina?” the teacher would prompt, as if mastering the correct anatomical terms was paramount.
When menstruation was discussed, we girls were likened to caterpillars destined to transform into butterflies, a.k.a. women. We already knew from commercials featuring girls dancing and confiding in their mothers about “not-so-fresh moments” that our transition would be both sudden and extraordinary.
As friends started to transform into “bleeding butterflies,” they perpetuated the myth that they felt “different,” more mature, and that we too would eventually understand. All of us caterpillars wished for our moment to arrive.
If only we had known how complicated it would really be.
Along with the monthly visits from Aunt Flo, our bodies changed in unexpected ways. Films illustrated how hair sprouted in awkward places, not on real girls but animated ones, who would inspect their reflections only to discover random pubic hairs. And hair under our arms? What? Didn’t that only happen to boys?
But all that extra hair was supposedly worth it for breasts. Unfortunately, when they finally appeared, they were merely tender, swollen bumps. Disappointment hardly covered it, yet we bought bras adorned with little bows—undeterred.
Ah, puberty. A beautiful, momentous, and utterly confusing time. Now, as an adult experiencing these flashbacks alongside my mortified son during his school’s informative session, I can’t help but chuckle at how life comes full circle.
The awkwardness has faded; I can easily say “penis” and “vagina” now, without a second thought. We survived, and I have faith that our kids will, too.
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Summary:
The article reflects on the author’s experiences of attending a puberty seminar with her tween son, evoking nostalgic memories of her own puberty education. It highlights the awkwardness of learning about sex and body changes in school, the misconceptions surrounding puberty, and ultimately embraces the journey from childhood to adulthood. With a humorous tone, it reassures parents that they survived their awkward phases, and encourages open conversation about these topics with their children.