I mulled over numerous ways to start this piece. Some were thoughtful, others humorous, but they all revolved around the themes of bodies, modesty, and gender. So let’s cut to the chase: I recently showed my 7½-year-old daughter how to use a tampon.
You might be surprised or even appalled. Perhaps you’re searching for the nearest child protective services number. Allow me to explain.
Growing up, I never saw my mother in a vulnerable state. I never witnessed her body—its scars, its beauty, its imperfections. Instead, I was bombarded with images of women who were polished and perfected, leading me to believe that this was the standard. As I matured, I didn’t grasp that every body is unique and beautiful in its own right.
That’s why I decided to embrace nudity around my children. I want my daughter to see me as I am: a woman who has borne a child, navigated the changes of motherhood, and still celebrates her own body—dimples, curves, and all. I want her to understand that her own journey through life will be a tapestry of changes she can appreciate and love.
This isn’t about being nudists (though that’s perfectly fine if it suits you; I just get chilly easily). It’s about creating an environment where my daughter can witness normalcy in the human body. If she catches me coming out of the shower or getting dressed, that’s just part of our life. And yes, if she happens to come in while I’m using the bathroom—well, that door is often just a suggestion.
“Mama, what are you doing?” she asked me the other day.
“I’m changing my tampon,” I replied.
She’s already asked about why some women have a “tail” down there, so we’ve had conversations about bodies and their functions. Earlier that week, after I snapped at her in a grocery store, she cleverly pointed out that I might need tampons, holding up a box. Smart girl, she was right—I bought them.
“Can you show me how?” she inquired.
I paused for a moment, then thought, why not? I’ve shown her how to blow her nose and maintain personal hygiene; menstruation is just as natural and should be part of our discussions.
Reflecting on my own experience, I remembered how I had to learn about tampons on my own because my mother deemed me too young. I snuck to the store, purchased a box, and felt a rush of embarrassment. After much trial and error in front of a mirror, I figured it out, but it was uncomfortable and confusing. I can help my daughter skip that awkward stage.
So, I demonstrated the whole process: how to unwrap the package, how to use the applicator, and assured her that it’s a normal part of life. I could have waited, but her curiosity deserved an answer now. Saying “you’ll learn when you’re older” creates unnecessary mystery around menstruation, which is something we should openly discuss—it’s natural, it’s real, and yes, it can be messy at times.
With this knowledge, my daughter has seen the basics from me, her mother, the most significant woman in her life. And that feels entirely right.
For more insights on parenting and reproductive health, check out our other blog posts, such as the one on home insemination strategies at intracervicalinsemination.com. Also, for reliable information on artificial insemination, Make a Mom is an excellent resource. If you’re seeking further guidance on pregnancy and treatments, the NHS offers comprehensive information.
In summary, sharing the realities of womanhood with my daughter is a step towards normalizing conversations about bodies and health. It’s about fostering a sense of confidence and understanding in her as she grows.