My dad always treated periods like they were something shameful. Growing up, he'd say they were "gross" and that men didn't need to hear about "women's issues."
Last week, my 12-year-old brother came into my room with a question.
One of the girls at his school had gotten her first period, and he wanted to understand what she was going through so he wouldn't accidentally embarrass her.
So I explained it as simply as I could. I told him about cramps, mood swings, discomfort, and how sometimes a little kindness—or even some chocolate—can make a bad day a bit easier.
Halfway through the conversation, my dad overheard us from the kitchen.
"Can you stop talking about that disgusting stuff?" he yelled. "Boys don't need to know about periods."
Before I could say anything, my brother looked straight at him and replied,
"That's probably why Mom divorced you."
The entire house went silent.
My dad just stood there for a moment, completely speechless. Then he turned around and walked away without another word.
My brother looked back at me like nothing had happened and continued the conversation.
"Anyway," he said, "what kind of chocolate do girls usually like?"
I honestly had no answer for that level of maturity at 12 years old.