How shocking can it be to discover your own body?
When Indian actress Parvathy Thiruvothu recently spoke about finding a benign lump in her breast and assuming it was normal, many people were startled. She believed every woman had something like that. It felt, to her, like just another part of being a woman. Only when her mother noticed it and insisted on getting it checked did she realise it needed medical attention.
What lingered in that moment was a quiet question: how many of us are walking around in bodies we were never properly introduced to?
The Shock of Discovering
A friend of mine bought a menstrual cup for the first time in her twenties. She had watched tutorials, read instructions and gathered the courage to try it. But when the moment came, she froze. Where exactly does it go?
Later, she laughed while telling me about it. “I didn’t know my body had this much depth.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. She had never really thought about where a tampon sits or visualised the internal space beyond the diagrams we see in school textbooks. No one had ever explained it in a way that made her feel comfortable enough to explore or understand.
That moment was not just about using a menstrual cup. It was about discovering a part of her body she had never truly thought about.
Another friend spent years believing something was wrong with her. Her underwear would sometimes have faint white discharge and slight fabric discolouration. She assumed it meant she wasn’t clean enough. She changed soaps, used intimate hygiene products and quietly carried the embarrassment.
The realisation came only when she moved into a hostel. Seeing other girls’ laundry drying in the sun and having a few open conversations led to a comforting discovery: everyone’s underwear looked similar.
That was the first time she learned that vaginal discharge is normal. That fabric can bleach slightly because the vagina is naturally acidic. No one had told her. She had to discover it by accident.
And how many such small anxieties do women carry simply because no one said, “This is normal”?
The Cost of Not Knowing
When we don’t understand our bodies, small things can turn into big fears.
A normal discharge can feel like a disease. An unhealthy lump can feel ordinary. Intimacy can feel frightening.
Sometimes this lack of knowledge delays seeking medical help. Sometimes it quietly builds anxiety, insecurity and shame.
When Silence Follows into Adulthood
Another conversation still stays with me.
A close friend of mine got married, but the idea of sex terrified her. Even discussing it openly made her deeply uncomfortable.
One day she asked me, almost in a whisper:
“Where exactly does it go? How do people do this? I can’t imagine it.”
She wasn’t being dramatic. She was genuinely confused. She understood sex in theory. But she had never clearly understood what would physically happen, nor had she ever explored her own body enough to feel familiar with it.
Think about that. An adult entering marriage unsure of how her own body works.
Not everyone grows up this way, but many women do.
The Silence We Grow Up With
In many homes, body parts are not named directly. Conversations about menstruation are still whispered. Questions are swallowed or deflected. Curiosity is often mistaken for impropriety. Instruction is that “don’t cross the limits”. And sex education, often focus only on warnings and dangers. As a result, many women grow up learning how to manage their bodies, but not necessarily how to understand them.
Many among us do not know what a normal breast feels like, or that breasts vary in size and shape. Stretch marks can appear even without pregnancy. Body hair can grow in unexpected places. Discharge can change across cycles.
Instead of understanding these things, many quietly carry confusion and unnecessary shame.
Understanding Your Body Is Not Vulgar
None of this should be taboo. Conversations about the body are not about sexualising it. They are about familiarising ourselves with it.
Ironically, this silence persists even in an age of endless information. The internet can answer almost any question, but information without guidance can also mislead or frighten.
Understanding your own body should not feel like an act of rebellion.
It should simply be normal.
