The Awkward Art of Growing Up

Remember that moment when your body suddenly felt like it belonged to someone else? When scissors seemed like a reasonable solution to a widow's peak that bothered you way too much? When you realized adults had been lying about puberty all along?

Daria dives deep into the messy, uncomfortable reality of growing up without proper guidance. From getting a period at age ten and facing a soccer tournament the very next day, to navigating the complex world of body hair removal based on unrealistic media portrayals, this episode unpacks the universal yet deeply personal experience of puberty. Without a mother figure present, these challenges became even more isolating – piecing together information from friends and their parents, trying to make sense of changes without a roadmap.

The journey through adolescence brings unexpected physical transformations that can feel like betrayals when they arrive too soon. Developing breasts overnight while still deep in a tomboy phase creates a jarring disconnect between self-perception and how others suddenly view you. Those freshman year experiments with teal tank tops, white button-downs, and bottom eyeliner represent more than just fashion choices – they're attempts to reconcile the person you've always been with the person your changing body is pushing you to become.

What makes this story universal is the awkward, sometimes painful process of becoming ourselves. Whether you cut your bangs in desperation, panicked over your first zit before picture day, or felt exposed in your first bikini, these moments shape us. Through all the confusion, we're not becoming someone else – we're just becoming who we were meant to be all along. What was your awkward puberty story? Share it with us and remember: just breathe.

Chapters

• 0:00 Content Warning: Puberty Talk Ahead
• 0:39 The Awkward In-Between of Growing Up
• 1:07 First Period: Soccer Tournament Panic
• 3:25 Navigating Puberty Without Mom
• 4:36 Scissors, Body Hair, and Media Influence
• 7:22 Developing Body, Changing Identity
• 10:05 Everyone's Journey Is Different

Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 0:00

Quick heads up. This episode gets into some puberty talk, including periods and all that awkward stuff that comes with it. If that's not your thing, totally okay to skip and catch the next one. But if you're cool with a little TMI and middle school chaos, you're in the right place. This one's about that weird in between when childhood starts to fade and everything begins to change. Your body, your emotions, your relationships, it all just feels a little off. It's confusing, it's uncomfortable, it's funny in hindsight, but mostly just plain awkward. Or as I like to say, awkward taco. I got my period when I was ten years old. I was still very much a kid, young, clueless, and definitely not ready. My parents gave me this book called The Care and Keeping of You from Borders when I was like around eight or nine. Right around the time we started talking about family life and health in class. And yeah, I read it cover to cover, probably more than once. So I thought I knew what to expect. On paper, sure. I knew about periods. The knowing and actually going through it are two very different things. When it finally happened, my body just started bleeding out of nowhere. And I remember thinking, I'm sorry, what? My parents were separated, and my mom wasn't really in the picture, so when it happened, I panicked. And because life loves to be dramatic, I had a soccer tournament the very next day. And if you listen to my previous episodes, then you already know I was a goalie. So pads, yeah, that wasn't happening. Enter my older sister, who had to give me a full-on tampon tutorial. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at it like it was a math problem I didn't study for. It was awkward, it was weird, it was a lot, but I got through it, and yeah, I played in that tournament. And honestly, every kid has their own version of that story. Maybe it was a mom, a teacher, a nurse, or a friend stepping in. And let's be real, TV didn't exactly prepare us either. Lizzie McGuire, the grassy, even Big Mouth now. Puberty always looked dramatic, but never exactly like what we were actually going through. That was just one moment, but really, the harder part was what came after. Going through puberty without a mom in the picture left me confused most of the time. I didn't always have someone to quietly explain things or reassure me that what I was feeling was normal. Most of my friends could go to their moms with the awkward questions. I couldn't. Instead, I pieced things together with the help of friends or sometimes their moms, which I will always be grateful for. But it never felt the same. It felt like I was borrowing guidance instead of having it built in at home. And that made puberty feel even more isolating. I wasn't just learning about my body, I was learning how to navigate it without a roadmap, always hoping I'd figure it out along the way. And when you don't fully understand what's happening to you, you start doing weird things to try to make sense of it. I didn't understand my body for a long time. And honestly, some days I still don't. It felt like it was changing without my permission. And I was just trying to keep up with it. I remember right before my fifth grade promotion ceremony, I became obsessed with my widow's peak. Like irrationally obsessed with it. So I grabbed scissors and just hacked it off. Obviously I ended up with this short, patchy mess right in the middle of my forehead. My dad was not happy, and rightfully so. That was the day I learned two things. One, never cut your own hair. And two, you can't fix the things you don't like about yourself with scissors. I think everyone has their version of this. For me, it was my widow's peak. For you, maybe it was the panic of getting your first sit right before picture day. Or going through half the deonorant aisle because none of them seemed to work. Another big thing that shaped me was the way movies and TV shows talked about body hair. Or really the way they didn't. Women on screen never had armhair, never had visible stubble, never had anything that looked like my dark, long armhair. As a young, impressionable girl without a mother figure, I took that as a sign. To be beautiful, I had to get rid of mine. So I started shaving my arms way earlier than I probably needed to. Honestly, I don't even think I had to. But I did, because I thought that's what being pretty meant. And across cultures, body hair has totally different meanings. Some places embrace it, some shame it. But at 11 years old, you don't know that. You just know what you see around you. And for me, that was women on TV who never seemed to have a single hair out of place. And once you start there, it kind of snowballs. Shaving your underarms, which for me actually feels more comfortable. But that's a personal choice. Everyone's gotta figure out what makes them feel best. The big one though was shaving down there. I did it way too young and I was way too uninformed. I had no business making that decision at the age I did. But I heard it in shows and jokes that boys didn't like bushes. And I thought, okay, I guess it's gotta go. And that's something I've learned over time as I've grown into myself. I don't do anything to my body to please someone else. Not anymore. Sorry, men. This body's choices are mine now. By thirteen or fourteen, my body was like, surprise. My boob shut up overnight. One day nothing, the next day, there they were. I was still deep in my tomboy era, sports bras, soccer shorts, my ponytail was always there. That's who I was. I was comfortable with it. So when my body suddenly wanted to switch things up, I was definitely not ready. I didn't want the attention, especially that kind of attention. But people noticed, boys noticed, and I didn't know how to handle it. The first time I wore a bikini was in the eighth grade, at a sunsplash water park day, and I remember feeling so exposed. It was the first time I saw guys look at me that way, and I thought, why now? What changed? It made me feel like my body had value, but not necessarily me. Then came freshman year, school ID, and yearbook photo day. I had this new year, new me moment. I wore a teal tank top, a white button down, bottom eyeliner, and my hair down. It was honestly my most girl outfit at the time, and it was mostly stolen from my older sister's closet. I didn't suddenly become someone else that day, but I was experimenting. I was testing out if people would notice that I was trying to shift my image a little bit, and I can't even tell you why I cared so much about what other people thought, but I did. I was just trying to be a version of myself that maybe made more sense to everyone else. Funny part is, I wasn't even sure if that version made sense to me yet. And that's the thing. Everyone has that one body change they didn't sign up for. For me it was boobs overnight. For you, maybe it was oily skin or grope spurt that left you walking around like a baby giraffe. To the kid with scissors, to the girl in the bikini trying to balance confidence with confusion, to the fourteen-year-old hoping eyeliner might make things click. You were doing your best. And even when it felt like you were falling apart, you were just becoming someone stronger. Puberty doesn't give you a warning. Sometimes it just shows up as a book from borders, a soccer tournament, a sister with a tampon, a teal tank top, and a botched haircut. This episode is for the ones who figured it out as they went. Who made weird choices, hid under hoodies, and just wanted to be seen, but not too much. What I've learned is this everyone's puberty journey is different. It has to be. Because we're all built differently. There's no perfect version, no easy blueprint, no one had a shiny smooth ride. That's kind of the point. You're not supposed to become someone else. You're just supposed to become you. Thanks for listening. And as always, just breathe.