if you have y chromosome, skip this blog


That disclaimer out of the way -- if you keep reading, it's at your own risk. Men do not understand hormones. But I think what makes it worse is that they don't even really pretend to care. This is not a phenomenon known only in my world. All the women I know have dealt with this on some level another. And it's always this patronizing response to an admitted, uncontrollable weakness: why don't you call your friends? Why don't you blog for a while? Do you want some sushi or some ice cream? Can I bring you a drink? What did I do wrong??

Are you friggin' kidding me?

Yes. You are a man. Your presence in my life is SO powerful that it throws my emotions SO out of whack that I feel like crying when I can't find my hairbrush. It's ALL you, baby. What's up with this??

It seems like a very cruel trick of nature that we as women are plagued by these emotional ups and downs, yet the very person that we are drawn to for comfort and strength rejects us in our hour of need. And it's not always blatant rejection, it's just a retreat to their caves until we start that wonderful crimson tide and seem a little bit more like the happy-faced girl they fell in love with...

Again, are you friggin' kidding me?

We are there for them through their highs and lows -- unemployment and other times of financial hardship, bearing their children, bending over backwards to help smooth out family situations, listen to their bad day stories, clean their houses, wipe their asses, whatever -- and yet, we admit to feeling a little blue and they freak OUT. Afraid that they might have to rise to our same level of supportiveness, I suppose. Afraid they may have to give just a little back of what we have been doling to them by the barrel-ful from the beginning of friggin' time and that it somehow may just drain them a little too much. For a few days a month when we may need just a little more love and tenderness and have the GALL to be honest and ask for it -- well, isn't that being just a LITTLE too demanding? I mean, they're only men. They can't be expected to understand this whole ebb and tide of hormonal joy that we have to deal with month after month until we finally get to experience the joys of menopause -- with its hot flashes and even more extreme hormone ups and downs and dryness down there and so on. All so that our bodies can be designed to carry THEIR children for 9 months, where we sacrifice our cravings for "bad things" to make sure that their child thrives -- while they continue about with their lives like nothing even changed.

Yes. I'm bitter. And hormonal. And it's not going to last long. I'll be fine in a few days but it's when I hear stories (and let's be honest, experience them in my own life) of women whose feelings are systematically disregarded time and time again -- I get a little Hulk like in my anger. I can almost feel my self-righteousness pulling my skin and threatening to turn me green.

Because the thing is -- you know what most women want? We want a man that we can be honest with about our feelings. Where we can admit to feeling blue and angry and horny and nosy and happy and sad and confused and torn and sick and whatever. We just want them to really listen (and not just during commercials) and then we just want a hug. Not a patronizing, "there there now" hug -- just a big, burly, fuzzy hug that squeezes all the funk out of you just for a little while and makes you forget EVERYTHING you're wrapped up in. We know we're never going to get back all that we put in emotionally -- we accept that as part of the bargain. But, we'll settle for a lot less if we know it's genuine.

And it's just that simple.