A woman's life

I've never considered the possibility of becoming a woman or, as it's called nowadays, gender reassignment.  I've never dressed up in women's clothing, other than the odd time or two when I put Karen's bra on my head as a joke which, not surprisingly, she didn't find as funny as I did.  I've never longed to deal with life from a woman's perspective, and I think there's ample reason for that.

First, the biological aspects are too much.  Menstruation, pregnancy, three types of cancer almost entirely female in nature...the list goes on.  Men have it infinitely easier from a biological standpoint, with the lone possible exception being getting our penises caught in a zipper.  I don't even want to consider what labor/delivery is like (I've been told it's like trying to push a bowling ball or a turkery between one's legs).  Women have it infinitely rougher than men and from what I can tell, not for real good reasons.

The next aspect that bothers me is the clothing.  Egads.  I'd have to have various and sundry parts of my body exposed for fashion?  Plunging necklines, rising hemlines, short sleeves.  Frilly, flouncy, multi-colored prints, slits up the sides and sides missing altogether.  No thanks.  And pink.  Heavens. If there's one color I detest more than orange it's pink.  I think it's a mandatory part of being a woman that you either surround yourself with pink or wear it at least four times a week.

The worst for me?  High heels.  What medieval inquisitor came up with these torture devices?  I can't imagine being strapped into them, much less have to walk or -- heaven forbid -- dance or run in them.  So they show of women's butts better.  Who cares?  I can think of few legitimate reasons women should wear high heels.

Then there's the warpaint, also known as make-up.  There is no way on God's green earth I could put that crap on my face, let alone wear it all day.  The thought of wearing warpaint makes me want to puke.

The worst part about being a woman, however, has to be having to deal with men.  I'm not talking about the day-to-day intercourse involved in loving, monogamous relationships.  I'm talking about dealing with men hitting on them, trying to get them to bed, discrediting them because of their gender, belittling the work they do, paying them less than they're worth, etc.  There are precious few arenas in which women are not men's equals -- many sports and the military are the only two that come to mind -- and there is no reason for the disparity of treatment between the two.  Yet men treat women like objects or second-class citizens, and I couldn't put up with that.

I'm glad I'm a man for many reasons.  But there are so many more reasons that I'm glad I'm not a woman.

(c) 2013 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles