"PMS?", you ask incredulously? "What are you, a Cathy comic?"
Yes, PMS. I know, I know, as a modern, educated woman, I should be debunking this myth that women become unstable for a week each month, which fully justifies the corporate glass ceiling and why we should never have a woman President. And yet....there it is.
In my twenties I jeered at Midol ads and considered PMS to be a product of the anti-feminist propaganda machine. Coincidentally, I was also on the pill at the time, which prevents you from experiencing any of the nasty side effects of having to ride Th Great Hormone Cyclone each month. Now that I am Laird Hamilton, having spent a decade surfing the tides of estrogen in my body each month, I think those commercials are not graphic enough. There needs to be footage of a woman clutching a chocolate donut, screaming at her kids to "PUT YOUR SHOES ON!!!!" until a vein pops out on her forehead, then the same woman sitting at the kitchen table, crying, after her children have left for school. And I am not the only one who feels this way. We have all shared tales of PMS-induced, low-level insanity. We all want to deny it, but then the only other explanation would be that we really are insane. I'll blame it on the hormones, thank you. PMS is like racism. Nobody talks about it openly in mixed company, but we know it exists.
Since the women's movement first began, one theory on gaining equality was to deny any differences between men and women. I think this is ludicrous. It shows how strong women are that we do all we do even when we feel like crap. I have a repeated fantasy where H has to experience one menstrual cycle and still function in his daily life. This is second only to my desire for him to experience just one transitional labor contraction and poop on a table in front of people. But I digress. I think it is a testament to womankind that even when we feel like we could justifiably kill everyone around us, we hold it together. Sure, we may not be Susie Sunshine about it, but we get it done. Susie Sunshine brings up another important point. Maybe women are expected to be too nice all the damn time. Maybe PMS gives us the excuse to not give a shit and be a little cranky. See: Men every day.
Even though we soldier on through this discomfort, I think Mother Nature, being a woman, knew that women would work themselves to death, and was trying to engineer a sort of "pause" button. Our cycles follow the moon, which, even as a celestial being, knows to take a breather once a month and disappear. No, this doesn't mean we can't be CEO because we'd be holed up wearing bunny slippers watching Lifetime movies every twenty-eight days, it just means that women, who are typically more critical of themselves (see: fat men in Speedos), are given a physical cue to take it down a notch and be kinder to ourselves. See again: men are every day.
So how do we deal with this? And by "we" I don't just mean women, I mean our partners as well. Because the men in our lives are as affected by our behavior as we are. But if our husbands dare ask if we are having our "ladies days", they risk being beheaded by the sheer force of our rage. "PMS" is like the N-word for women. We can say it all we want, but you can't. I think the fear is, once we admit it's an issue, we are giving men permission to treat us like dim-witted slaves to our ovaries. I think we should all approach it like we would having a cold. When you have one, it's OK to admit it and you're allowed to be a little cranky. No condescending judgement.
I myself am altering my orignal plan today to sand and paint the bathroom trim. It will do me good to take a break - and I would've spent the whole project muttering myself into a rage over somebody, who shall remain nameless*, taking showers long enough to already start peeling the year-old paint. H has also been told there will likely be takeout for dinner. Maybe instead of my usual running around, I'll put up my feet and watch some bad TV while eating chocolate.
"AACK!!!!"
*H! Wtf, man? I have one hundred times the hair to wash and square inches of skin to shave, yet I shower in half the time you do. I know the lack of functioning lock means you're not jerking off. What exactly are you doing in there?
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