Being a woman often comes with its own set of peculiarities that men may never fully grasp. Our bodies can sometimes feel more like foreign objects than parts of ourselves, subjected to scrutiny by strangers and examined by doctors. And if we choose to embark on the journey of motherhood, we quickly learn that our sense of modesty must take a backseat to the realities of pregnancy and childbirth.
Once we decide to grow a life within us, we might as well throw modesty out the window. During pregnancy, our urine is tested, blood is drawn, and our bodies are poked and prodded as if they are on display. It’s almost as if we need a warning label with pregnancy tests: “Enjoy this moment, as it may be one of the last times you experience privacy in the restroom.”
Embracing the experience of inhabiting a woman’s body is nothing short of magical, albeit often messy. We begin our gynecological visits shortly after our first period, knowing we’ll soon be sharing intimate details about our lives with a stranger. We’ve all had that surreal experience of discussing our sexual history while someone has a hand inside us, as if we’re at an unusual dinner party where pants are optional.
We come to terms with the fact that numerous individuals will examine our bodily fluids and we might even find ourselves feeling oddly proud when complimented on the “agreeability” of our cervix. The discomfort of a breast exam becomes just another part of our routine while we casually chat about the weather. We might even express shock over the latest plot twist in our favorite show while exposing our most private areas to a room full of strangers. And yes, sometimes there’s even a chance of having to deal with unexpected bathroom situations.
These experiences become the norm for women, leading us to feel surprisingly comfortable with our bodies. After two children, I’ve reached a point where I could stroll down the street in the nude and hardly bat an eye. “Hey, everyone! Feel free to look, many people have seen far more than you ever will.” It’s no wonder that older women confidently walk around in gym locker rooms—they’ve simply stopped caring about modesty.
Meanwhile, the men in our lives often experience trauma from a simple flu shot. I can only imagine the therapy sessions that would be necessary if they had to undergo the gynecological or waxing experience.
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In summary, the gynecological experience is filled with awkward moments that women navigate with grace (and a little humor). From intimate examinations to unsolicited commentary, we adapt and embrace the unique journey of womanhood.