Guest blog - My experience receiving my first bra

The last thing I remember about my eleventh birthday party is crying in my bedroom next to a crumpled pile of tissue paper. I don't remember what I ate, what friends attended, or what I wore. The only gift I remember receiving was my first bra. I understand this is one of many rites of passage a girl endures before becoming a young woman. Unfortunately my body was ready for me to grow up quicker than my family was prepared for, being the only child to a young mother. Wearing a bra was never really discussed, just like shaving my legs, or the complex relationship between girls and boys. And this is how I found myself filled with embarrassment and tears in my eyes holding an ivory bra, having no idea (and I mean no idea) what to do with
The last thing I remember about my eleventh birthday party is crying in my bedroom next to a crumpled pile of tissue paper. I don't

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