Photo credit: African American Historical Photo Gallery

Let’s talk about it. Period.

It was a warm and humid fourth of July afternoon. I was twelve and carefree, sporting festive white shorts with a blue and red sequin tank to match. I knew I was cute hanging off of the monkey bars. Racing neighborhood boys and girls up the steps of a towering jungle gym. I played and played until finally I went inside only to find a huge bloodstain on the back of my white shorts. I was shocked that it was in fact coming from my vagina. I…