please jesus, i take back what i said in 5th grade, i dont want my period anymore... but id like to keep the breasts...

I was born in august of 1986. my parents, Pat, and Nancy, were all set to name me Stella, until, soon before my birth, my Aunt Glo called up my mother and asked "How's Amanda doing?" I have always suspected that had my mother named me Stella my personality would have developed differently, I imagine i would be vastly more aggressive (if you can imagine that) and perhaps a better singer... don't ask me why, its just the feeling i get.. As it was my parents called me Amanda, which, as it happened, was the third most popular name in the United States that year, thus making me one of four 'Amanda's in my elementary school classes. The Amanda's and I spent each year from grade 2 til grade 5 together.

Children of this age group rarely base their friendships on much beyond who lives near them or who has blond hair or who likes Michael Jackson. as for us, I and the other Amanda's based our friendship on our shared name.

One day in the 5th grade the adults decided it was time for a school administered version of "the talk" and the boys were taken to one room and the girls another, and we were all shown films and shown diagrams that warned us that soon our bodies would be changing and our hormones would kick in and ruin everything that was once simple. i can't say what the boys were told, but based on some of the clueless comments and confused sexual metaphors i heard in later years i cant imagine it was very much beyond instruction to wear deodorant. It is clear even now that even that little bit did not stick for far too many of them...

For the girls, we were given deodorant, and ... *maxi pads* ... we were told that soon we would get our periods and that around the same time we would gain weight on our hips and most importantly we would be getting *breasts* . We couldn't wait for those breasts! The giddy joy of the possibilities of womanhood was almost too much to bear...
That day at recess the Amanda's and I all met under the tree at the edge of the playground to discuss what we had been told. To my delight we were all on the same page and it wasn't long before we agreed we should hold hands and pray to Jesus to give us our periods so we could have our breasts. We believed of course, that the period was the key to the breasts...

years later, i can report, that we all got our periods, but I am the only one who got breasts, and I am the only one who has lost Jesus. who needs him now that i have my fantastic breasts? although i could really do without this stupid period....