Imagine the Life of a Woman...

Our good friend CJ sent this article over this morning. Not sure of the origin, so if someone knows where it came from, please let me know so I can give proper credit.

If you ever thought it was easy being a woman, think about this...

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As I awoke this morning, put on my clothes, and walked out to the subway
it struck me that I would make a terrible female. If twenty three years
and nine months ago a XX sperm hadn’t been boxed out by the winning XY
squad then I would be Meghan and be living a completely different life
no doubt. But this isn’t to hypothesize as to what my life would be
like, nor a backhanded way to critique what could be perceived as flaws
in the female character, but to recognize and acknowledge just how
difficult it must be to make it in this world as a card carrying member
of the XX crowd – and to wake up thanking my dad every day for the
opportunity to live as a man.

And now, Why I’m Glad I’m No Woman:

1. Female Function:

The irony behind spending all day desiring vagina is that I wouldn’t
know what to do with myself if I had been born with one (and not in the
way you’re thinking). I’m just straight up at a loss for words at
how completely difficult it must be to maintain that thing as it seems
like there is just so much that can go wrong with it. Let’s get the
obvious out of the way here – you grow and carry around a baby for
nine months as it does all kinds of fucked up shit to your body. Good
god, I can’t commit to dog sitting for two weeks (and let’s not talk
about the few unfortunate goldfish that got stuck with me at some point
in their suddenly brief life), and your body is designed to carry around
one or more humans for what can be years of your life. Now chalk up my
irresponsibility and fear of commitment to immaturity, the only benefit
to pregnancy (besides the obvious result of bearing child) is eating
whatever you want. But I do that now anyways, and when you’re preggers
in this health conscious culture you need to consider just what you want
to be feeding your unborn. Plus you can’t drink or smoke for nine
fucking months? And I imagine a cold stiff one is all you want the whole
time. I can’t even go nine days.

And to avoid pregnancy (there’s always abortion, but ye gods I don’t
want to go there – it’s just another reason why no male should have
any choice in the matter), you could go on birth control. I tried to
take a vitamin every day but barely lasted a week. Maybe my vitamin c
count is below average, but the consequences for not taking a magic pill
AT THE SAME TIME everyday is A BABY. Plus, can you imagine going on a
routine with that pill like an AIDS patient with their ACT, and not be
getting laid? I think that would derail/motivate me more than anything,
like having the ability to fly at the same time I’m scared of being
outside.

Another fantastic consequence to be responsible for fucking with your
natural menstruation cycle is this horrid phenomenon called
“spotting.” So you’re telling me that not only am I using drugs
for tricking my uterus into cleaning house once a month regardless of
visitors, but it’s going to further punish me by randomly ruining my
favorite underwear without warning at any given time? That shit’s
fucked up and when I first heard about it I could only begin to
understand how paranoid I would be – my uterus could strike at any
time!

So enough with babies – every time women have sex they have to piss
shortly afterwards to prevent infection! How is that little health tip
breached? I learned from afternoon sitcoms that all I had to do after
sex was roll over and go to sleep, but you never see a woman run for the
toilet on prime time! Even with infections and toxic shock and birth
control pills and spotting under control, there are still a million more
things that can go wrong down there! Men and women tend to share a lot
of the same STDs, but with shit like HPV (and I know there’s more),
there are diseases that guys never know they have, are never affected
by, and can pass on and kill women! The worst consequence of sleeping
with me should be a hangover, morning awkwardness, a walk of shame, and
social ridicule – never death!

It comes down to the fact that for the female gender, sex is a far
bigger risk and commitment then for men. This biological fact has
trickled down and affected EVERYTHING attributing to the differences
between our genders. Men are programmed to impregnate as many women as
possible and women are programmed to find the balance of great genes and
caretaker ability and hold him down for life. Both genders will
eternally struggle against that natural instinct in the age of birth
control and promiscuity.

Plus – another thing. Boobs. Sure guys might suffer some penis envy
when comparing oneself to a certain porn star, and often boast (usually
unfounded) at length about their length, etc. but unless you’re
streaking down the hall (and slow) there is no public display of
inadequacy. However, a woman’s chest is generally on display for
everyone to scrutinize and I can’t begin to imagine how those racks on
either extreme (huge or minimal) have to deal with the wide array of
judgment, lust, and competition out there. You might tell me that women
aren’t as self conscious about their chests like men are with their
genitals, but I’ve heard boob jobs have never been more popular, and I
can’t support that shit. Also, breast cancer is horrible and very
public whereas I could switch out a nut for a bouncy ball and not notice
the difference. Plus running without a jock strap is nothing compared to
doing so without a sports bra.

In conclusion on this point: I was born, circumcised, and since
haven’t had to care for my male genitals more so than my elbow. I’ll
take a few cheap shots to the nuts over childbirth (or as I hear,
stretching my lips over my head).

2. Looking presentable is time consuming and co$tly for females.

As I mentioned earlier, I can wake up, pick up the clothes off the
floor, and walk out the door. The necessary maintenance for myself (and
I’m talking minimum here) includes:

- a $12 haircut every two for four months

- replacing a razor/shaving cream every other month

- a bottle of hair gel each year

- a bottle of Pert Plus and Body Wash a month

and LITERALLY that’s it. When I’ve worn every article of clothing I
own, I walk downstairs and shove everything into a giant laundry machine
and after a drying cycle replaced them in my room. That’s laundry and
that’s about once a month as well. I can exist with a nail clipping
here and there, on a load of laundry a month and a trip to Duane Reade
every other. I’m no movie star or gorgeous athlete, I’m just an
average looking male whose day to day consists of little more than a
shave and a shower.

Women, on the other hand, might be able to get away with running out the
door once in a while, but spend almost equal time preparing for leaving
the apartment as they spend on the outside.

Let’s start at the top.

Haircuts for women are pricey. Sure, I might have a few options when
figuring out how to style my hair, but the possibilities for females are
endless – I can’t even wrap my head around it. For that, they pay
way too much money too often at the salon for a cut, at the store for
products, in the bathroom/bedroom for washing, drying, and styling
purposes. Then when you go out, it’s windy, and all been done for
naught. When I’m feeling wild, I squeeze some goop in my hand and run
it through my hair that’s been shampooed and conditioned by one
product. Done.

Aside from eyebrow plucking, face waxing, mascara, foundation, blush,
eyeliner, lipstick, blah blah blah, a woman is never satisfied with her
face, which is why we rarely get to see it al natural. All that money is
spent on creams and cosmetics and pain to put on a face and take it off
daily, everyday. And like most painters that can’t leave well enough
alone, the imperfections are covered up with more imperfections and the
makeup just piles on until it’s beyond excessive. I am eternally
grateful for the option to not have a mirror in my place and coming to
grips that I wouldn’t be able to change anything anyway.

Then we get to the wardrobe. I can mix and match shirts and pants,
shirts and ties, etc. All I need is a brown/black belt/set of shoes and
a suit. I know exactly what is expected of me at a formal, business, and
casual event and can match it easily. There is little demand to be
creative and successful outfits are often repeated. I don’t know where
I’d find the money or closet space to meet the demands placed on the
women of our fashion focused culture. You will never have enough shoes,
dresses, outfits, or accessories and we all know this. I celebrate the
fact that as long as I’m socially presentable I’ll never have to go
beyond dressing to impress on a daily basis. I can change clothes in
less than a minute and not have to question how I look because 94% of
the people that will see me that day won’t give a fuck. Not so for
women. You judge yourself, you judge each other – it’s something you
expect and demand. There’s nothing more I can say about your clothes
except that I would never be accepted by better dressed people if I were
a girl.

Men are hairy. I like that. Even when we don’t shave we look ok,
whereas women are presumed hairless from eyelashes down and that’s a
lot to live up to. If I had to shave my legs everyday just to leave the
house I might just move to someplace North where it’s cold all the
time. Plucking, waxing, shaving, creams, etc. etc. you’re a slave to
the standard. And you know what? It’s nice. You’re soft, smooth,
sleek, and beautiful in all the ways men are not and that’s what makes
me a heterosexual. There’s really nothing I can say or do or think to
change this fact that I’m just super happy it’s ok for me to be
hairy. I embrace it today as I embraced it a decade ago – I’m just
glad I don’t have to do it.

And finally, in this category at least, your bodies: Women, I presume,
are under pressure to have big boobs, no waist, nice ass, toned legs, et
al. I’d say it’s a fact that where a guy can manage a larger
waistline, a belly is very exaggerated on a woman. It’s in part due to
the way dresses and tight tops are made for women, or how exposed
midriffs happen frequently, but it’s noticeable. So, not only are you
shilling for manicures, pedicures, facials, “getting your hair
done,” more shoes, shirts, dresses, purses, jewelry, etc. but if you
aren’t in a gym, you’re doing something wrong. The big man is
respected, the big woman mocked – that’s just how it is. Watch a
Hungry Man commercial then flip to Kristie Ally hawking weight watchers
products. How terrible that on top of your stomach crunches you
shouldn’t be drinking beer or eating wings or enjoying carbs and
calories? Case in point – the King of Queens (big man Kevin James) and
his super hot wife.

And if you do all of this right? You’re wearing the right power suit
to command respect and attention whilst still asserting your womanhood,
trimmed, styled, and primped to feel the confidence you need to do
anything, and? The end result is you’re still hit on by some sleazy
drunk guy at the bar. Well, hey, you get free drinks and you might as
well stay out, it took you over an hour to get ready to leave anyhow.

3. Female role models?

My last point in this long winded rant, and before you jump all over me
here, is that I’m glad to be a guy because they public figures I want
to relate to are guys. Now, hold on, think for a minute. What are some
of your favorite bands? Favorite tv shows? Favorite writers? Favorite
celebrities? It’s natural to want to be them and when you’re singing
along; it’s a guy’s voice isn’t it? I’m selfish to want my
karaoke attempt to be in the same tone as the original artist. I’m
selfish to read and want to relate to my favorite writers because even
though they’re gay (Sedaris, Palahniuk, Burroughs) they’re still
guys. How many famous comedians are of the XX clan? We all know
Silverman isn’t really that funny. Simply put, the media is still
dominated right now by men. Women are taking an edge, but I’m still in
the majority. I mean, perhaps I’m naturally drawn to guys BECAUSE I
relate to them, but I wouldn’t be surprised that women have more men
on their bookshelves, in their ipods, and next to the tv. I’ll take
Indiana Jones over Tomb Raider and James Bond over Devil Wears Prada.


To conclude this whole damn thing, I just want to say I love women and
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the pressures on the gender as
a whole and don’t think I would be able to hack it. I’ve gained a
new respect for you all because you put up with us. I can understand
being crazy because it would make me crazy too. And I just want to thank
you for all the work you all do for us. Women are the number one reason
I’m not gay and I’m certain gay men appreciate you for that as well.

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