“I can’t worry about my bra. I need to get out of here,” I utter at 5:40 today. Priceline is closing in 20 minutes and I need dental floss. Stringy bits of of asparagus are stuck in my teeth.

My husband raises an eyebrow as he snuggles into the couch . “Do you need it now?”

I was out before I could catch those puppy dog eyes staring like I’d just dropped from outer space.

Married for 9 years, ‘Men are from Mars. Women are from Venus,’ made sense—Different creatures, different planets.

My hubby suffers from Man Flu, while I keep calm and carry on. Even if it means hiding shopping bags, Carrie Bradshaw style.

 

Today, I’m addressing the big “M” — the “M” standing for men, of course.

At 15, I’d decided most of the world’s problems were caused by men. I came up with a solution—a clinic for women to support them.

The all-inclusive clinic would be called “Triple M: Men, Menstruation and Menopause.”

I could see it in my mind’s eye— a fresh and bright building, 5 stories high, with a huge variety of specialists. Soft, curved walls, painted in duck egg blue, with bold framed black and white images of women of all shapes, sizes and ethnicities decking the walls.

Any woman visiting who needed a reminder of their own bravery and strength, would have it mirrored back to them. Women are strong; no negotiation there.

 

Facts are facts. Can you imagine if MEN got their periods?

Heaven forbid, half the world would shut down at the drop of a hat.

Business meetings would close due to ‘personal emergencies’.

And I’d rather swim in a pool of crocodiles than be within 5 feet from a group of men with coordinating periods, and hormones bouncing off the walls they were building.

 

Man flu? That’s nothing.

A man giving birth would be the worst thing in the entire world: for the man himself and for all his multitude of female helpers.

It’s a scary thought.

They’d faint from epidurals. Or try to just quit the whole birthing thing, as they clawed at the door, furrowing their eyebrows, searching for the ‘bottom line’. They’d reduce themselves to tears. “It’s not fair,” they’d sob.

Women are strong. We’ll climb through hoops of fire like a Circ du Soleil performer.

We’re smart enough to feed your ego, because we need food on the table. And we need you out of the house so we can go shopping and NOT need to hide the evidence.

We’ll continue to intrigue and puzzle you. And you’ll continue to fall at our tricks. We’re strong. Men fall at our feet because they know we hold the reigns.

 

We get our periods; the world doesn’t end. We get pregnant, carry a baby for 9 months. We do it because we CAN.

I challenge you to retaliate. We run the world; there’s no need to advertise it on billboards. We have precision; strategy. If you see a woman, watch her strut. We are 3 steps ahead of you—it’s our superpower.

 

We are women; hear us roar.