The One Where… I talk about being a grown up woman

That's me in the pink.  Man I was cute.

When I was a girl I couldn’t wait to grow up and be a woman.  I wanted to go out with my friends, meet handsome men, and wear glamorous clothes and red lipstick. 

I watched Ally McBeal hoping that my grown up life would be as zany, glamorous and successful.  Surrounded my hot men, taken on fabulous dates, going to fabulous locations, being serenaded by Robert Downey Jr…..Oh Robert *looks off wistfully in to space*

Oh 16 year old self how wrong you were.  The reality of being a grown up is a bit different, and mildly boring.  Although some of us women in the world are blessed with glamorous, creative and fun work environments not all of us are that lucky. 

There is mundane bureaucracy, office politics, bitchy colleagues, working late for no overtime (or recognition). 

There’s housework, broken down appliances, ailing parents, recession, redundancy, credit card bills, funerals, biological clocks, misogynists and the glass ceiling.

The glamour and romance of your imaginings is often fleeting and overwhelmed by the mundanity of everyday life.  Men are not going to serenade you.  Robert Downey Jr is not going to know that you exist.

But oh 16 year old self, lets not say that everything about being a woman is bad.  I feel waaay more confident about myself.  OK I’m short, fat, and incredibly short sighted.  But man I make this shit look hot.  Yeah I like to look nice and am perpetually on a diet, but I am the most comfortable with who I am and what I look like, imperfections and all, than I have been ever.  All of the neurotic Ally McBeal shit?  Nope, I am freaking awesome.

There are cocktail hours, babies, the ability to question expectations, high heels, the opportunity to make your own choices, to break barriers, and men with beards.

There are beer festivals, scary movies, weddings, christenings, and parties, learning to cook, choosing your friends, staying up late, and discovering yourself.

I love being a woman, but bloody hell it is hard sometimes.

Would I want to be a man?

Well…. I could pee standing up.  I wouldn’t be judged for not wearing makeup.  Prospective employers wouldn’t ask for little hints about my personal life to see if I was planning to get up the duff.  I could do my hair in less than 5 minutes.  I could like the stuff I like with out people being surprised (“Star Wars? Really?”).

No.  I wouldn’t want to be a guy.  Regardless of all of the societal, social and personal pressures you are put under by having an innie rather than having an outie, being a girl is great.  In fact it is bloody fantastic.

16 year old self, keep having those fantasies because even though real life isn’t always as glamorous as you think it might be, in so many respects it s even better than you imagined.