I had so many embarrassing moments in my life that I could make a novel out of it but here's random 3 that I could share. Not that you care!
1.
The whole puberty stage. I was so embarrassed by it. Just the thought of going through it was embarrassing enough for me at that time.
I hate to point out that I had a brushed-in with puberty earlier than a child could handle. I had just turned 10 (yes, that early) when I had my first menstruation. It happened before we had puberty/adolescence lessons in our class. I didn't know how to handle it, not even the simple task of washing my stained delicates. I couldn't forget that day. Needless to say, I was the first girl in the class to have had gone through that phase in life. I just wanted to be a little girl longer so that unwanted transformation brought so much anxiety and insecurities in my life. I wasn't ready yet to face adulthood. It was like, my happy child life was in front of me and was being snatched out from my very own eyes (drama!). I wasn't prepared. I was caught off-guard.
I remember not telling anybody about it. Not even my mother. The thought of me not being a little girl anymore scared the hell outta me. It was a horrible, horrible (I need to say it twice to express its magniture) thing, so I thought, and that shouldn't happen to anyone. Much more to a young innocent child.
I DIDN'T HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT WAS I DOING THE WHOLE TIME! I was just a very confused puberty stricken victim who was trying to self-teach the consequences of bridging into adulthood from my innocent childhood. Nevertheless, no-one ever guided me of crossing over that bridge. I never thought of it as an important part of my life. I was 10 - not until a week ago - for christ's sakes.
I never asked a soul on how it should be handled, so, I ended up stashing all my stained underwears under the cabinets or in any remote corners that could not be seen by the family. And talking of underwears, there were a lot of them! I wore it in doubles and layered by shorts. Using of sanitary napkins/pads never crossed my mind. I mean, I used to see my mother and older sisters buying it and I knew its purpose but I was too busy being a mens. ninja, sneaking my every moves, that I didn't, for a sec, thought of using pads. How's that for maturity? Oh, nature!
I think that was the beginning of me being aloof and reserved. I always thought of being different from the rest of my peers. That was when I stopped playing all together and started hating boys.
By the way, it was almost over when my family learned that I was having my first mens.. And that's because I was running out of shorts and undies and my mother didn't see any in her laundry so she was asking questions. And I was running out of alibis.
2.
This came together with 1. The growing of boobs. I hate it. I was like "hello there! what's your business hangin' on someone else's body?". As a result, I started to slouched. I didn't like anybody to noticed it. When my mother realized this, it became more complicated. She wanted me to wear bras and I couldn't take it. Bras is for grown ups. I was a little girl.
3.
I was in second year of high school, the whole town (Oslob) was celebrating its annual fiesta. It was early afternoon and there was an event in the town plaza, a 10-minute pedicab ride from home. My mother was very clear that I could not go to the town unless I was with her or any adult member of our family. But you know, highschool thing, you wanna hang with friends, you felt "cool" that way, so, I escaped. She was busy entertaining visitors and I was really hoping that she couldn't realized I was missing.
So, at the town, I was being the usual hormonal teenager - very loud! I was already having signs of nearsightedness then, so, when we passed this landscaped garden that had a sign "keep off the grass", being cool that I am, I encouraged 4 of my friends to still go over the garden. I even went in there first, half walking half running. Yeah, cool! I didn't notice that there was this rope/nylon, knee-high, that was guarding the garden. My foot was caught off it and I stumbled knee first to the rocky ground. It was fiesta, so, people were everywhere. The big wounds on each of my knees caused by the fall, which I didn't have any idea on how to explain it to my mother, didn't surpass the humiliation I felt to those who witnessed my downfall.
To cut the story short, I didn't see the town's merriment and went home early with my wounded ego... I mean, knees. My mother was still busy so she didn't notice me as I went upstairs to self-medicate me. I didn't see any betadine and was so afraid of asking my mother's help, because more or less, I might be having add-ons of my suffering from her pinches and scolding. Anywhere I looked, I couldn't see any first aid medicines but saw this astringent (ESKINOL) lying from a distance, instead. I grabbed it and bathed my knees with it. Don't ask why. I was a teenager, full of hormones and bad decisions! And whoever said that physical pain is better that emotional pain, haven't tried bathing fresh wounds with alcohol. Just saying. and I cried. A little. In seclusion.
And it was not until a week later that my mother learned of the wounds that had got infected and of how I got it. I hid it in long shorts (not a pun) and uniforms until I couldn't bare the pain anymore. And also, the WADDLING as I walk, I couldn't made up stories for that, too. So I confessed :(
