模倣子 The War on Motherhood

Macromemetic Index 

I get a strong nod of agreement from women friends when I note that having to menstruate every month for decades is a big aspect of and qualifier for being a woman, kind of like a monthly tax, or a monthly deposit into some kind of reproductive savings account, if you will (or obligatory military service?). I have not made those payments, I have not had to prepare for them, not had to have the protective products at the ready (or know how to use them, or how comfortable or uncomfortable they are), I have only the vaguest idea as to the pain and discomfort involved (I don't have the organs that are having the pain, for starters, but the reports I have are not nice), how much fear, if any, is involved (blood coming out of you, the right kind of blood, etc.), and I can't imagine what kind of social embarrassment is involved, how much of a pass one can expect from other women (or men) cas échéant, or even what it's like when it all starts to stop with menopause (which I gather is no picnic, either).

I can imagine (well, no I can't) that if there were some magical switch that could be flipped that would somehow leave me the same person, but go back and change my chromosomes at fertilization, replay the epigenesis and gestation I went through, change the socialization that I got put through starting around three or four years old, really going up a notch around third grade (so I imagine) where I start to develop and differentiate from the boys and "little girls" so that boys (and adults and other girls) start to notice, and maybe get shamed into wearing things like brasières and so on (I don't have a real grasp on the extent of this, either), and then start menstruating, and do that for years and decades, no breaks, no "months off", and having to schedule things around that (no swimming, etc.?), then I might start to feel like I could go to the "Women Only" clubhouse door and knock at it.

Pregnancy and motherhood seem like the PhD / post-doc program to all this. Men are terrified by the idea. "How'd you like a pot roast pulled out of your nostril?" seems a TV line written by a man, not a woman. I don't know what things women are afraid of during pregnancy, if anything, since I don't have the equipment, have not had the experience. By the third trimester a lot of them just seem to want it over with. There may be "hormones" (whatever those are) that "take the edge off" (again, whatever that might mean). I don't know how actively anxious most mums are about labor before it happens, or gets into full swing, for example--if a lot of other women have told them how painful it is, they worry, otherwise, maybe not so much. The foot and back pain, I can see from the outside, but then there's "What does it feel like having a baby cram its foot into your pancreas or bladder several times a day?" type of thing about which I have no idea. Some of this stuff might actually be kind of fun, or enjoyable, maybe in a silly kind of way--no idea. Some women say they "like" being pregnant--what part do they like? I don't know.

I realize that I'm only scratching the tip of the iceberg ("Just the tip" ;-), though. I'm observing the Woman Experience very much from the sidelines. I'm not wearing the gear, I don't know the rules, I don't know the signals, I don't know how to handle the ball, or the puck, or the frisbee, whatever, I can't just jump into the field and start playing. I imagine that if there were such a magical switch to flip, I might do it, and I assume that somehow I would have the wherewithal to navigate all the foregoing, but I still can't imagine what that would be like, if I would hate it, or if it would just seem normal somehow. I'm not a woman, I'm also not sure I'm a "real man" (I don't get to know objectively what that means, either)--I'm just here to help, and to listen.

So women are these cool, elf-like creatures with strange magical powers and a kind of glow around them who get to wear interesting clothes and make-up and so forth, but it takes a lot to get there, and there's a lot going on under the hood, a lot more than most men, even gynecologists, could ever imagine.

Having said that, the male clubhouse door has no such qualifications or restrictions. Come on in, and if your dad was cruel to you, you get one of our special hats!