Disclaimer: Super-bad language alert because the subject matter insists on it. Oh and remember, I’m a whinger – not a doctor – so don’t hold any factual inconsistences against me.
Forget Dawkins, forget Hawking… Forget the entire recorded history of theology, metaphysics and philosophy. There is no greater evidence that God is a man than fucking estrogen, because if God was a woman estrogen would make us drop 4 pounds overnight, give us perkier tits and flood our brains with happy hormones on the regular.
Fact is, estrogen is a bitch. My long-suffering lady friends will know exactly what I am talking about, because whining about our wayward sex hormones is a uniquely female rite of passage that starts from a very young age and continues well into our 50s and beyond. Estrogen is that life-long frenemy you just can’t shake, so you settle in for the long haul and wearily cop her abuses.
Estrogen, oh estrogen. How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways….
Estrogen attacks your belly with the sort of vicious bloating that makes you look like you’ve just gone from zero to six months pregnant overnight, which is as just as uncomfortable as it sounds. The mid-point of the menstrual cycle is a really strange beast: when you ovulate, it’s almost like your body wants to do a practice run for the baby that it desperately wants you to have. But, in lieu of having an actual embryo to gestate, it has to improvise with whatever else it has on hand, so it makes a substitute “foetus” from two readily available materials: water and fecal matter.
Hello water retention! Hello constipation!
Enjoy your makeshift baby bump.
2) Water retention
Part of that hideous bloating is water retention, a phenomenon so intense that your swollen midsection can explode two or three sizes beyond the waistband of every single item of clothing you own. It’s like your body grabs hold of every drop of water that enters your body and keeps them all hostage, so you have no choice but to spend the best part of a week walking around with a camel’s hump where your belly used to be. Time to bust out the emergency fat pants – you’ll need them until your bullshit hormones flick the switch that finally lets you piss it all out.
3) Constipation and flatulence
Not only will you be bloated with water retention, you’ll also be gestating a ten-pound poo-baby, because estrogen will make you constipated as fuck for several days. I got third degree vaginal tearing after delivering a baby with a 97th percentile-sized head, and I would rather go through all that again than try and squeeze out an oversized estrogen poo-born every time I ovulate. Unfortunately, the bad news is that there ain’t enough Metamucil in the world to induce an estrogen poo-baby, so you’ll be carrying that arse-tearing sucker to full term. There will be plenty of gas during the delivery, but it’s not the sort of gas you really need.
I mean fuck, who wouldn’t be a moody bitch when a) your colon is blocked up with a lump of solid fecal matter the size of a fucking house brick and b) none of your fucking pants fit because your belly is so swollen with retained shit and water that it makes you look six months bloody pregnant? I dare ANYONE not be be moody af under those circumstances.
Fact is, the mood-altering qualities of estrogen are legendary – as any man who has had his hand bitten off as he tried to reach for the last piece of PMS chocolate can testify. So fuck you estrogen for making me cry at that shitty pensioner insurance commercial like a fucking pussy. And fuck you for making me angry at that thing I was angry about because I’m not sure why but it’s really making me angry…
I’M THE ONE BEING RATIONAL HERE, IT’S Y’ALL WHO ARE THE PROBLEM.
Now give me a cuddle and a foot rub.
And get your fucking hands off my chocolate you chocolate stealing cunt.
5) Sore and lumpy boobs
Another one of estrogen’s delightful side effects is the sore and lumpy knockers that I’m rocking at various times during my cycle. Bad enough that they are tender and painful – which is annoying on its own – but the other fun part about hormonal breast tissue is being able to enjoy the gut-churning fear that goes hand in hand with finding lumps in your boobs, because you straight up start panicking that you must absolutely without doubt have breast cancer. Fuck you estrogen. And fuck your cancer-scare bullshit every month.
6) Every other fucking thing that sucks
If I haven’t already convinced you that estrogen is pure evil in biochemical form, take a squizz at this list of additional horrors: headaches, migraines, decreased sex drive, heavy or irregular periods, weight gain, hair loss, sluggish metabolism, foggy thinking, memory loss, fatigue and insomnia. Not to mention OTHER BAD STUFF, like a weepy appreciation for Celine Dion power ballads and the uncontrollable desire to hoover up every single sweet or starchy food in your immediate vicinity, like a voracious human carb-nado.
I mean, if you can look past the bloating and the moodiness and the headaches and the sore fucking tits and the fatigue and the insatiable need for ALL THE CARBS IN MAH BELLY the female body is truly a remarkable feat of nature. A thing of fucking miracles.
Cool story bro. Tell it to my ovaries.