Well, it depends on what you think is your best friend or not. PMS, cramping, bleeding, mood swings and just plain old hell, is what I call it. I could sit here and tell you all the benefits of having your ovaries but I'm not going to bore you with that. Instead, I'm going to talk about the wonderful world of being a woman. I was diagnosed with HPV, which is a disease that causes cancer. At thirty-seven, I was walking around with my worst fear realized cancer of the cervix. I went to a woman gynecologist, who told me not to worry that it wasn't that bad and I was making more of it than I needed to. Ok, correct me if I'm wrong, but hello, this is my life and body we are talking about here. Who are you to tell me how I should react or think of the matter? And, you are a woman!
Anyway, I went into the office and had a procedure, called a colposkpy. It is where they shave the portion that is diseased from the cervix. Lucky me! She then asked me what doctor I wanted to see for a follow-up. I thought that strange since she was my doctor. So I asked her what she meant, and she stated that she was going on vacation and I had to see another doctor. I was pissed off! How could she tell me I had this disease, say it was no big deal, and then hand me over, like I was a piece of property for someone else to deal with? So I fired her! Then, I went to another doctor for a follow-up, and he shared with me that I had a lot more wrong than was told to me initially. Poly-cystic ovaries, endometriosis, a uterus tilted so far back that it could guzzle a beer in one shot, and to top it all off, that my earlier concerns were all in my head!
I'm a telling you, it is a hard thing to be a woman. You come into the world; you deal with the hypocrisy of “its a man's world” “know your place” “please don't make your father angry” “and for Gods sakes, don't be a burden”. Go figure! You then reach the age of womanhood, which is considered to be a blessed passage in life, get married, birth your children, rear them, become a raiders of the lost ark adventurer for all your husbands' and children's misplaced items, have your boobs smashed every year, a duck billed platypus device inserted into your womb and peered at, then told you need birth control or a surgery to prevent you from having kids, and then thank your lucky stars that you are treasured as a woman.
Your ovaries are men's excuse for why you are upset, crying, angry or just not in the mood to play. Why is that? “Honey, why are you so upset? Are you on your period?” I mean, is every reason that I am upset due to the fact that I have a period? I guess so! Women throughout history have been doomed to carry a stigma of impurity, sin, and a lesser than value. Girdles, bras, pantyhose, and any other torture device that a man has created to keep us bound have been the norm. I mean, come on, chastity belts? What is that all about? Protecting the mans ownership of our ovaries? It cracks me up when I hear these kinds of property of ownership that men speak of. When in fact they couldn't even handle labor, much less childbirth.
To me, a girls best friend is a little piece and quiet, a good book, a delicious giggle with a girlfriend or two, and it has nothing to do with whether I have ovaries or not. You hear lamenting from women that feel, “I won't be a woman anymore” when you are forced to do away with that part that makes you a woman. If that isn't the kettle being called black, I don't know what is. So, we come to the question, “What makes a woman a woman?”
That which is opposite of man is a woman. We carry children in our wombs, have breasts that produce milk, long, drawn out periods with premenstrual syndrome, emotional roller coaster rides, and if that isn't enough the role of housekeeper, chef, chauffeur, coach, nurse, counselor, sex goddess, and all around doer of all things.
My feelings on the matter are this; “I am a self contained person, who has knowledge of most things relevant in the world. I can be anything I want to be and that includes nothing if I so choose. I am allowed at least one major nervous breakdown a year, with four or five emotional episodes that are spread out. I am allowed to look through you any time I want and not feel guilty about it. I don't have to make you feel special, appreciated, or otherwise secure. My only job is to be here and have you like it.” I mean, how many of you have so often wanted to shout this at the top of your lungs? You hope that someone will wake up and pay attention that the world doesn't revolve around only them. And the thing that makes you a true woman is the knowledge that you get it. And then we have the media, with all of its commercials about how wonderful your period can be. From new products, like comfortable tampons, pads that do everything but make dinner, new and improved designer drugs to help you manage the day.
