But most importantly, this book left me with the fact that I’m not alone, and that everyone is different. (They are still taboo, considering this is one of the most banned books because it talks about - le gasp - a girl going through puberty! Totally not a normal thing, right?) This book also shows how much pressure some girls face from peers. Rereading it now as a 12- (and three quarters, thank you very much) year-old, I see how much more taboo puberty talks were in the 1970s compared to now. I learned that everyone should love each other no matter their religion, shape or size and no matter whether they wear socks with loafers or are a late/early bloomer. This was puzzling to a 4-foot, 9-inch tall 11-year-old, so I turned to my mom to ask about all of this. In addition, it led me to think about how people could get left out just because they weren’t growing yet, or if they were growing too much, too soon. And most importantly (and most cliché) was to not judge a book by its cover. You should love everyone, no matter their religion.
Not everything everyone says about everyone is true. The effect also made me think differently. Was I supposed to be growing already? Why would something such as religion be able to break a family apart? Why could something someone couldn’t control define how they would be treated in life? I was also confused, because I knew that it wasn’t just - BOOM! - a period.
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