I sorta wished I were a man. And no. I don't have penis envy. I'm perfectly thrilled with my female parts and feminine persona.
Instead... I apparently have muscle envy. Which I guess would give Freud an equal amount of reason for deep psychoanalysis but whatever. Feminism notwithstanding, I just can't believe how much easier life can be for men on all sorts of levels. But in this particular case... I'm talking life being easier for men because of their: Muscle Power. I'm totally jealous of it.
Case in point: a couple of weeks ago I had a wonderful two day a visit with Joshua. My alltime favorite step son. He's actually 8 years older than my own son and I've known Joshua since he was about 4 years old. He's now almost 40. Gulp. Anyway... their father had PLENTY of muscle strength and apparently he's passed that on to his two sons.
Plus... I just have to add that it was pretty freaky after spending years and years staring down when speaking to these boys, I eventually found that by the time they were in their early teens... EEKS... I had to actually begin looking UP at them. It's a crazy ass switch up, let me tell you. And it definitely put a glitch into trying to reprimand a kid who now stood way taller than you and who could almost pick you up and hurl you clear cross the room if they wanted. Although in my case that so could never happen. I may have been shorter than these boys, but am pretty sure I was heavier than they. Just my luck. But regardless...
By the time the boys were teenagers... OMG did they ever have muscles! You could see their strength right smack on their arms, their muscles getting bigger and bigger thus becoming stronger and stronger. It was simply incredible. Rarely would they EVER need help in moving furniture, TVs, mirrors, etc. etc. Granted I find women smarter, often more mature and/or rational in their thinking... and many times more kind hearted. But as far as physical strength? Oh man... the men have it way over me. And probably way over you, too.
Thus you can only imagine how thrilled I am even today, whenever I can ask one of the boys to do something for me that requires muscles and bingo. 1-2-3 they're able to do the task with absolutely no trouble at all. As in several days ago, when I needed Joshua to lift my major heavy class table top out on the deck. Turns out we needed to put the rug back under the table base. I myself could never do it in a million years. Joshua on the other hand? BOOM. He lifted that table top as if he were lifting a mere toothbrush. I just couldn't get over it! And I said so for about the next 23 minutes. I was simply amazed. It was like: NEED TO LIFT A TRUCK?? SURE. I CAN DO IT. JUST STEP ASIDE PLEASE.
Not only that... but were I to ever take the shovel to dig a BIG hole in the ground to plant my two potted hydrangea plants, it could have easily taken me weeks. Plus I'd be sporting a massive back pain like you couldn't believe. But Josh?? Man... he got that deep, big hole dug in no time, with as much ease as if he were scooping ice cream. I'm not saying he might have not perspired some, but still... his muscles allowed him to do these tasks lickety split. No huffing. No puffing. No panting. No swearing. No problems.
Ergo: my muscle envy. Geez... now that I think about it... I SHOULD have had Joshua help me move my bedroom dresser while he was here. I just BET that behind there somewhere is my favorite big black ring that I totally love and haven't found for over a year now. Or maybe it's behind the head of my bed whose mattress by the way is so heavy it once literally knocked me over onto the floor and broke my glasses. For my kids? Would have been easy as pie to flip a mattress. For me?? It bordered on life threatening.
So my bottom line take on all this is basically that no matter HOW many Wheaties I eat... there is absolutely no way I'd ever have the kind of muscles that men do. Not even my core training would help. Especially given I can work out with only the mere 8 pound weights I use. 10 pounds in each hand? OMG. I'd be a basket case altogether. Which leads me to conclude: Yes. Compared to men I may be way more emotional. Way more sensitive. Way more girly.
And apparently... way more of a weakling.