I was 14, so that would have been summer of 74, you do the math. My mother had given me a book 4 years before that explained puberty, what happens with boys and girls, where babies come from and what happens when boys and girls "really, really like each other." That was my one and only introduction to reproduction.
We were at my great-aunt's summer cottage on a lake in Upper New York State (think Dirty Dancing for a scenic idea). She always kept the bathroom well stocked with anything anyone could possibly need or want in the way of "unmentionables". I had been feeling "off" for a few days and then one afternoon I went to use the bathroom and lo and behold!
I used one of the belts and pads that were there for the purpose, and then I went and told my mother (that was a dreaded chore in and of itself, she was not exactly a supportive parent). She insisted on examining the evidence - like I was making it up? Then we marched (and I mean marched) to the store to buy a) replacement products for the ONE I had used and b) more products for my use. Now, pantiliners and tampons were available even then but nooooo, not for my mother! Pads and belt it was.
The ultimate humiliation was that night when she decided to engage in family sharing (evidently she had just read an article about it in Ladiee' Home Journal or Family Circle, it was surely not an original thought) and she announced it at the dinner table. I thought my father was going into apoplexy (WAAAAY too much information for him) and my sister (2.5 years younger) was just clueless. This is not the right way to handle the situation!
My periods were as regular as clockwork from that point on until I was 43, when they ceased. I only missed a period when I was pregnant.
That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.