Women are batshit crazy.
And I will not disagree with that notion.
It’s the overflowing of hormones, which are a blessing as much as it is a curse. It’s because of the female neurological imprint that makes us care too much sometimes, which can be just as good as it is bad. It’s good because we all know this brand of female affection is what makes the world a more nurturing place, but it’s also bad because it’s the same stuff that makes us paranoid over whether our guy is actually reading the news on the phone or texting some other girl with legs that go for miles long and looks like Megan Fox. It’s wonderful being a woman. But it’s horrific too.
Remember that girl we saw on TV or heard our girlfriends talk about? That girl who is insecure, paranoid and over-analytical? Yeah. ‘That’ girl. ‘That’ girl we scoff at and vow to never become. Unfortunately, there have been times where I suddenly came to a sinking realisation that I was being just that. Eventually, I have learned that all women have that side of us, no matter how small – it is either we manage to keep it calm and suppressed, or we let it go rampage.
I wish I could tell you that there is such a woman who is always zen, bares zero effect of monthly hormonal changes or does not let her mind wander to great depths of the ocean. But alas, after five years of being in an all girls’ school, having 95% of my friends being female and sitting for weekly womanly talks with other women, I can sadly confirm that no such female being exists.
I sometimes get a little disappointed with myself too. Even after consciously making an effort to control it, reading self-help books on how to emotionally improve as a woman and making a mental note on how I should not behave, I still slip once in a while.
Before I knew it I was doing that thing where I was expecting people to read my mind and say exactly what I wish they would say (and become disappointed when they don’t).
In the midst of trying to be cool, I find myself becoming jealous.
While attempting to be nonchalant, I managed to come up with the worst scenarios of things.
Eventually it becomes more evident that being frustrated over not becoming the ‘perfect’ woman is a pointless battle. Like every other creation, none of us are perfect. We value men for their much more collected ways in dealing with the same emotional spasms, but at the same time recognising that the male nature too has other downsides. I am slowly learning to cut myself some slack whenever I recognise that my behaviour is reflecting this ‘craziness’, and fortunately I have noticed that as you grow older, you will have better control and rationalism over it. Over time you would learn to appreciate these traits and see them as privileges. There is a dark side to it for sure, but with growing up you will learn to control and coexist with them. And like all privileges, there is always a choice to use it for the better, for yourself and the people you treasure.