17 Apr 2016

If I Were A Boy...

Oh come on, don't look at me like that!

There had to come a point in my blogging life where I would have to quote Queen Bey because duh she is the metaphorical Queen and this is that point. The idea for this long awaited post (sorry about that!) came when I was listening to an old pop playlist on Spotify because you can't beat the classics and lord behold "If I were a boy" was playing and it kinda got me thinking.

Don't get be wrong I love being a woman. I love wearing sassy dresses and high heels that make my heart swell. I love those intimate private chats I have with my gal pals about 'girly stuff'. I love pampering myself and slapping on a ton of beauty product half of which I have no idea what they do but who cares the packaging is cute and it smells like heaven. I love the solidarity that can exist between woman, how we stand up together and fight for the abolishment of arranged marriages or the right to vote against the self righteous, egotistical men who think they are God's gift and therefore deserve to rule the world. I love the fact that we live longer, are more nurturing and are better communicators and multi-taskers than men.

However, there are some things about being a woman that are not all sunshine and rainbows and for the most part I think it's quite easy to say that men have it a whole lot easier than we do. So please excuse me while I pop into my imaginary kingdom (don't pretend like yours doesn't have candyfloss cloud and ice cream snow too!) and live out the interesting scenario that Beyonce has proposed here:

"If I were a boy, 
Even just for one day..." 

I'd never have to experience the sheer horror of blood pouring from my vagina 24 hours a day for a week or sometimes even more if mother nature is being particularly harsh. I never have to to deal with the fact that it turns you into a raging bloated lunatic who doesn't know whether to laugh or cry half the time or have to do a mad panicked run to the local supermarket when I run out of tampons and forgot to buy anymore.

I'd never have to squat over a dirty public toilet or pee all over my knickers when I got cut short and ended up having to piss in the woods where even the squirrels seemed to mock me for not comfortably being able to pee in a bottle and throw it out the car window. Which FIY guys is gross especially when it's summer and the stuff starts to warm up and your travelling along the motor way with the window's rolled down...yuk!

I could get ready in under an hour and wouldn't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn to shower, wash hair, brush hair, blow dry hair, straighten hair, style hair, pick out an outfit, put on makeup, take off makeup because it makes me look like a clown, re apply makeup, spritz on some perfume, attempt to fit everything in a really small handbag, apply plasters to poor high heel worn out feet, put on heels and finally leave the house.

I could wear the same thing twice and not be judged. Jeans and a hoodie all day, every day for the rest of entirety while the girls are left having to keep buying new clothes or finding new ways to accessorize for fear of that one person who will say "I swear you always wear that top!" or an even more colossal fear that somebody will wear the same outfit of you and you'll end up in one of those horrid magazine articles- Who Wore It Better!

 It would be acceptable to walk around topless in summer without being forced by social standards to keep that t-shirt on even though you have massive sweat patches and the materiel is so stuck to your back right now it might as well be part of you, when all your wanna do it rip it right off and get a good even tan like your male counterparts . But no can do!

I'd never have to worry about wearing a bra that is bloody uncomfortable and restrictive but is only slightly better than not wearing a bra at all. Nor would I have to worry about finding a top or dress that doesn't show my bra straps because god forbid anybody should see them and know that Bethany Dale of Essex wears a bra!

And lastly, the biggest one of all: I would never have to experience childbirth from the sheer nuisance of carrying around a growing child for nine whole months while it kicked and squirmed around inside my womb to the pressure it puts on my already peanut sized bladder so that for the rest of entirety I would never be able to pee in a straight line again, before going through the terrifying agony of pushing the little brat's watermelon sized head through a hole the size of a lemon only for it to keep me up all night.

So unless a bloke is as stupid to challenge me further after such staggeringly obvious evidence, I'm pretty certain that if I really were a boy, life would be a whole lot easier right now. 

No doubt about it! 

Love Beth xx

1 comment:

Reading a comment always makes my day a little bit brighter! Thank you for stopping by and I will get back to you soon xx

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