I’m having a really hard time with the concept of the “hardest thing about being a woman is deciding what to wear”. At the moment I’m waiting for an MRI to be done next Tuesday to see if I have ovarian cancer or some other demon lurking in my feminine regions.
I’m sorry a transwoman can call themselves a woman but without the equipment that defines our sex and our health concerns, without the socialization and the discrimination that is so engrained that many of us never notice it until it’s too late, it’s really hard to take seriously.
They will never know the fun of lying on the bathroom floor passing clots and cramping so badly it makes you puke.
They will never know the fun of having to have an emergency hysterectomy because you have fibroids that are about to turn your bladder necrotic.
They will never know the fun of being the last kid to get her period when all her friends are talking about Aunt Flo from Redlands.
They will never know the fun of your body surprising you at high altitude when you don’t have “supplies”.
They will never have the pleasure of losing friends to ovarian or uterine cancer because there were no symptoms until it was too late or watching them go through chemo and the trauma of the decision to shave their head or watch the hair fall out in hunks on the bathroom floor.
They will never know the pain of finally telling someone that the man next door molested them when they were 6 because they were a girl.
They will not know the fear of simply walking down a dark street from the time they were little. That only comes when they decide to wear a dress.
A woman is a woman all the time and does not have the pleasure of deciding to be a man at work and then go home to put on his wig and dress and be a woman for a few hours. She wakes up a woman and is a woman 24/7 not when she chooses.
A woman knows the fear of being in a room with someone they know is bigger and stronger and not knowing if they can get away or wondering if they will have to break someone’s foot or hurt them to get away.
A woman can’t pee standing up unless she wants to make a colossal mess.
I still remember not being allowed to wear pants in school or at church. I remember having to wear a hat and gloves to church. I remember not having a choice about what I wore because I was a girl. I remember being fitted for a girdle in 7th grade even though I weighed 56lbs because girls wore foundation garments and stockings. I remember my gym partner having to wear bandaids under her 40 DD bra in 7th grade when my dad was still saying I was two peas on a washboard and I got to wear an undershirt. I remember having to stop wearing that undershirt. I remember being sent to charm school against my will to learn to walk like a lady and to “float” up and down stairs.
So, yes, I have a problem with the worst problem about being a woman is what to wear.