Reflections from Aunt Irma

June 22, 2012 by Jenni

Image from IT Crowd / Channel 4.

Every time that particularly joyful week in my menstrual cycle rolls around again, I am always found clutching my spasming sides and reaching for the painkillers moaning “I hate being a girl, ugghhhhhhhhh!”, before retreating underneath my duvet trying to curl myself into the smallest possible space. I hate it when my boobs hurt so much that I can’t walk around unbra’d without holding them still. I hate it when boys just don’t understand why whatever silly thing they said/did is making me grumpy and shouty. I hate it when my hormones get the better of me and try to make me cry at sad films, resulting in a battle of wills between me and my tear ducts because I refuse to let it be known that I am secretly soppy. I hate it when I am contorting myself into some awful yoga position trying to reach that spot on the back of my thigh with a razor, again.

Well, I decided from my duvety-cocoon-of-pain, sod that! I am determined to remind myself of some of the reasons that being a girl isn’t all that bad, if only so it stops me thinking of how much my uterus is rebelling against me today.

Firstly, boobs. We have em, and we can play with them at any time of our choosing. I like to jiggle mine at my friends, and sometimes they even join in. I love having jubblies, I personally think they are a wonderful accessory in all situations. They’re an excellent shelf for catching tit-bits of food (see what I did there) that would otherwise go to waste, and some lucky ladies can even use their cleavages to store all manner of objects when their arms get tired. They make big necklaces sit just right and hold up strapless tops. Plus their receptacles come in a rainbow of shapes and colours and materials to suit any style. We can push them up, squash them down or squeeze them together and they’re just lovely.

Another thing that’s great about being a girl is when you feel beautiful because everything is working together today. Now, most of the time you will find me dressing in an array of humorous T-shirts, jeans (bootcut, never skinny fit) and a big snuggly hoodie because I dress for comfort and not for style, and wouldn’t really know style if it slapped me in the face. Every so often though I like to dress up and make an effort, wear a dress and makeup and stuff. It’s lovely being girly for once-high heels and swishy hair and everything feeling wonderful because I know I look great today. And I also know that tomorrow I don’t have to bother, which probably helps too.

And oh the conversations! The things you talk about with your closest girlfriends would make Casanova blush. Nothing is taboo-from how much your pants are trying to crawl into your bumcrack today to just exactly what you would do to that guy/girl, and where. Girlfriends instantly understand that the correct response to “Men are sh*ts” is agreement, icecream and wine. They’re the ones who rearrange your clothes for you so no-one can see your bra, who lend you magic pants when you’re having a “fat day” and who make sure you haven’t got your skirt tucked into your tights when you leave the bogs.

Yes, girls tend to be bitchier than boys, but then again they’re also the ones who stick by you through anything, they help you up when everything falls apart and they steer you away from creepy men in bars who are trying to chat you up. In short, they’re the best. I guess you couldn’t be an AWOT without first being a WOT.

And I know that this time next week when Aunt Irma has retreated back to her cave that I will think of a million more reasons why being a girl is fabulous and better reasons at that. But for now, I shall clutch at these 3 like a beacon of hope, and proceed to curl up in my bed and eat my body weight in chocolate.

In the end, being a girl is pretty darn awesome. Just not this week.

Jenni (@circlethinker) is a science geek, a theatre aficionado (both on and off the stage), and a big fan of socks. In fact, she claims her socks are more awesome than mine (see Twitter bio), but she hasn’t seen my Bakewell Tart socks, so I can only assume she is wrong. She’s in her early twenties and recently finished up a Biomedical Science degree at Sheffield. Jenni has a lovely blog over here and you can find her on Twitter right here