You Think It Sucks To Be A Guy? Try Being A Girl For A Day!
A few days ago I was out to lunch with a male friend of mine, and he was bitching about how much it sucks to be a guy in today’s world. I don’t remember too much about the conversation because while he was bitching about things like “meaningless sex” and “not being able to gain weight,” I was silently plotting his death.
We argued over who has it harder, men or women, and the debate seemed never-ending. In fact, if I hadn’t pointed out “the ass on that waitress,” he would probably still be complaining.
To keep you guys up to speed, it went something like this…
“Waxing.”
“Well, at least you don’t get receding hairlines.”
“I see your receding hairlines and raise you periods.”
“What about us having to deal with your crabbiness while on your periods?”
“What about I kill you now to prove you’re right?”
“What about men always dying first regardless?”
“Uh huh. Yeah, I hear you on the whole shortened life thing but child birth. Check. Mate.”
He somehow seemed to think having a beer gut and paying for a few dates is far worse than ripping your genitals in half.
My friend also argued that other than our time of the month and “all that baby stuff” it’s smooth sailing. Little does he know there are so many other battles women fight everyday that men couldn’t even begin to understand.
In his honor, I decided to compose a list of some of the lesser known struggles women go through on a daily basis that are usually overlooked by the male population. Such obvious hardships as…
Trying to find the perfect balance of cute and sexy but ending up looking like a slutty 12 year old.
Any squat, ab, or clean eating challenge three days in.
Calculating exacting how many drinks it takes for you to start calling your ex boyfriend and not going one (or seven) over that number.
Bathing suit season verse margarita/BBQ/ice-cream season.
Spending a small fortune on products that never do what they are supposed to yet you can’t stop, won’t stop. No clump mascara? You sit on a throne of lies, but I need you.
Pretending you don’t burp, fart, or poop while not exploding on a regular basis.
High heels. You’re awful, I love you.
Wearing a dress and remembering not to climb out of the cab like a demon from hell.
Taking two hours to get ready to make your look seem effortless (when really most of us wake up looking liking Sloth from the Goonies).
Attempting to keep up with the boys while drinking, forgetting you are 5’2″ and waking up in your bathtub pants-less and covered in Mexican food.
I mean, or so I hear. 
