We started to ‘bud’ in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find that anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.
Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn’t even know we had.
Our next little rite of passage was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn’t end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.
Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn’t spend the entire day leaning over Brother John . Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary’s Baby.
Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a whole watermelon and we pee’d our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.
Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, ‘Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar . Calm down and push. ‘Just one more good push’ (more like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the
%$#*@*#!* hubby and doctor square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 pound bowling ball through a keyhole.
After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that when all that ‘cute’ wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.
Then come their ‘Teen Years.’ Need I say more?
When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40’s – while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.
So we progress into the grand finale: ‘The Menopause,’ the Grandmother of all womanhood. It’s either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned ‘buds’ or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.
Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life’s cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks…
So, while I love being a woman, ‘Womanhood’ would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby. You think women are the ‘weaker sex?’ Yeah right. Bite me.
women have it way easier in most other areas of life
You know, I bet the woman who wrote this didn’t have part of her genitals removed without consent. I bet the woman who wrote this has never experienced a hysterectomy, or been infertile and subsequently lonely. I could never spend my life with a woman who could have the audacity to rub the privileges of life and sexual and reproductive freedoms in the faces of others, as though it were something negative.
I’m glad my mother wasn’t so weak as well.
I have read it an enjoyed reading it but I dont agree.
Why Women should be glad who they are
Why do you think that most sex change operations are men seeking to become women? Because men have such a wonderful life? Or is it because they feel deep down that being female is who they feel themselves to be.
You skip the most important parts of being a woman. It isn’t having pain or of the stages of a woman’s life. You forget that women get to experience the miracle of life and birth, a privilege that many men would love to be able to experience even with the pain.
You don’t mention that women can have close female relationships and are free from many of the same societal expectations men face. You forget to mention that men die sooner, have shorter lives, and have a higher rate of disease. Men are clearly weaker in many ways, and our shorter lives prove it.
Women experience multiple orgasms much easier than men can. Some men can do it, but it is comparatively rare compared to women. Women have mating opportunities in numbers that men only dream about. Even good looking, smart or great men don’t get the same kind of approaching that even an average women gets. Be honest. Even ugly women can get a boyfriend, when often men who possess multiple admirable qualities do not.
It is the easiest thing to focus on the pain in life, but try to remember what the joys of being a woman are. Try not to forget that if gender were a choice the numbers would be far different. Try to realize that it is the inner person who chooses to enjoy life, not the details of whatever body you were born into.
Respectfully,
Chimac