Living as a woman

Plucking up the courage to go to the GP after months of struggling with PND after my second DC’s traumatic and near fatal birth and being shut down mid sentence and told by the GP with a sneer, ‘my wife has THREE children and SHE copes. You need to just get on with it’. I remember leaving the GP surgery being more sure than ever that everyone would be better off without me.

Epidural not working, so spending twelve hours in awful pain, staring at the wall and telling myself that at least I was giving birth in a modern hospital, so both me and my baby were likely to come out of it alive and well (and indeed, a modern hospital was needed, as it all ended in an emergency c-section when the baby wouldn't align himself.)

My only source of comfort was the silent presence of my husband - but then a few months later he said that watching me suffer and being powerless to do anything about it had been too horrible for him, so if we had another child, he wouldn't stay by my side as I went through labour.

Being told to keep pushing for three hours, while shouting over and over that this is my third time and the baby is not moving, followed by swearing through1000 stupid questions before a spinal can be given, to be greeted with surprised amazement when I complied instantly at the point when they finally asked me something rational and useful (get into position for said spinal).

Clearly being exasperated and impolite when in extreme pain, due to the extreme stupidity of the maternity routines (not the staff) is assumed to be a sign of being a difficult woman

Living as a woman means going about your daily life with two X chromosomes inside every cell in your body.

Yep! The gift that keeps on giving- knobbly, irregular and non elastic stitches, a little reminder of the experience of a mismanaged birth for every occasion where elasticity matters.

I spy with my little eye [https://4w.pub/the-rules-of-misogyny/ Rules Three and Nine]].

Rule Three: Women speaking for themselves are exclusionary and selfish.

Rule Nine: Men always know the “real reasons” for everything women do and say.

I cannot sufficiently recommend the specialist funnels one can buy for this purpose.

• Post-coital cystitis.
• Sexual assault aged eight.
• Breasts at eight.
• Periods at nine.
• Catcalled in school uniform, fucking paedophiles.
• Mechanics talking to my boyfriend who didn't even have a driving when getting a tyre changed on holiday, even though I was asking all the questions.
• PPE not fitting, especially boilersuits, gloves, and safety boots.
• Tools and cellphones are too big for my hands.
• Getting catcalled whilst running.
• Being scared to run at night.
• New colleagues do a double-take when they see a woman in my role.
• Screaming my way through my first IUD fitting without pain relief, all so that shitty ex could bareback.
• Never orgasming during penetrative sex.
• Landlords talking to me about the cleaning when viewing a flat with shitty ex.
• Menstrual cramps.
• Endometriosis.

Not being allowed topiramate because I "haven't completed my family yet". Reader, I am child-free. That means that zero children is a complete family.

Pausing your music when walking with air pods in when passing men

Waking up during an egg retrieval and being unable to move while feeling a six inch needle digging at your ovaries.

Being fobbed off for a year with antidepressants, instead of a simple
blood test (which I’d requested 3 times) to diagnose an autoimmune condition.

Being asked in an interview “what does your partner think about you applying for this job? How will he feel about you working weekends and what will happen with childcare?” Like an idiot, I answered rather than questioning whether this was appropriate for an interview. This was only about 5 years ago, so they really should have known better. (National chain of estate agents).

I can't take any of this 'living as a woman business' seriously unless the man in question has first spoken to his boss and negotiated a pay cut in line with the gender pay gap. Then, maybe, I will entertain his claims to be living as a woman. Of course there is still the pregnancy, postpartum and period stuff to be got over....so I have serious doubts as to whether it is doable.

Running out of sanitary products, or coming on your period early/late/never knowing when. Not being able to wear white, worrying about what to wear on your period or how heavy/bad your period will be. Worrying about leaking. Staining clothes or towels or bedsheets.

Almost dying on the operating table after haemorrhaging during an emergency c section
Lying to the midwife during the PND screening because I was worried they’d take my baby away if I admitted to feeling depressed
Not being able to wear noise cancelling headphones when running for fear of not hearing someone approaching from behind
All the money spent on taxis home from a friend’s house that’s a 5 minute walk away, because walking home alone at night isn’t an option
Worrying that the taxi driver could be a predator
Consoling a friend whose teenaged daughter has died crossing a busy road, rather than using the unlit footbridge
Being fobbed off with antidepressants for hot flushes
Vasovagal syncope during a uterine biopsy with no pain relief that caused a dangerously low heart rate and made me think I was dying
Having a man call me names in a pub because I told him I’d break his fingers if he didn’t remove his unwanted hand from my chest as he tried to grope me

I can't imagine any shopkeeper calling a grown man Sweetie, or Dear, possibly a young boy or maybe a frail elderly man.

If someone said they "helped an auld dear cross a road" the i would take them to mean an elderly woman

No, I meant female nurses and female shopkeepers.

Men use the terms for women and women use the terms for men.

Men call you dear, darling and sweetie? How odd. I personally don't like it, it's condescending.

Being called a girly girl because I can’t pick up super heavy items.

I see your twice and raise to three times. The second two I had done with a spinal block, as I nearly broke the anaesthetist's hand cos it hurt so much first time around, and I'm not a good candidate for a general if it can possibly be avoided.

Having an important conversation with other women about meaningful and often traumatic aspects of our shared lives and a man comes along to correct us.

That has nothing to do with being a woman. Terms of endearment are used for both sexes. As a man, I have had many nurses and shopkeepers refer to me as "dear," "darling," "love," or "sweetie."

Not a single experience being described on this thread could possibly be categorised as making fun of others. Out of all the things you could’ve said in relation to the stories of suffering for being female (and the amazing ones too), this was what you chose to say? Mind boggling.

Having my crotch grabbed by a shop keeper when travelling shocked my younger innocent naive self. Giving birth to miracle DC. My DD utterly anxious about getting her first period at school. Having amazing female friendships lasting decades.

Nearly dying of undiagnosed peritonitis on an operating table in 1972 when I was 10, although I'd had numerous appointments over months with the old school G.P. (smoked like a chimney during consultations, always smelled of scotch) complaining of severe abdominal pain which proved to be acute appendicitis. Every time I was taken in he would dismiss my pain as "Girls of this age. So sensitive, you know, but it's only growing pains". It wasn't until years later that I realised he meant menstrual cramps, although I didn't actually start bleeding for another two years...