One for the Wimmen
November 4, 2004
8:18 a.m., MT

My wonderful friend Fran Van Cleave sets up my topic for today's rumination quite well, in her essay at LewRockwell.com titled Political Primate.

Yes, I'm going to talk about hormones. Unlike Fran, though, I'm going to talk mostly about wimmen's hormones. TMI warning for the gents, and possibly for some femmes as well ...

Forgive me, fellow femmes, for I have been wrong. I never had PMS when I was young, and the few times I had really bad menstrual cramps, the memories quickly dissolved into the mental ether of inattention. My monthlies just weren't the affliction that they seemed to be for my fellow sistren, and I was quite smug about it. So smug, in fact, that despite being a life-sciences oriented nerd in school, I concluded that a lot of the PMSing I was seeing (and reading about in the news and women's magazines) wasn't real -- it was an excuse, a way for women to ease up on their emotional self-control without accepting personal responsibility. It wasn't me, it was the hormones ... Stay out of my way, I am SOOO PMSing today ... And so on.

I became a mother fairly late in the game. It's hard to objectively attribute the various shifts I experienced after Orion's birth to specific factors, what with the complication of being a first-time mother and other stresses on the scene ... but after Osibisa's birth, it became pretty plain: I'd begun having cyclical mood swings that correlated fairly well with my menstrual cycle. Ack!!!! PMS -- happening to me?!?

The plot thickens. Saaba's birth was just four years ago. Now I suspect I'm on the brink of menopause, if not fully there. It tends to come early in my family, so my aunts tell me, but ... Sheesh ... what a fast shift. And what an intense hormonal roller-coaster ride.

So, I have finally experienced that which I scoffed all those years ago. I've been snarky with family and friends, then gotten the monthlies and subsequently cringed as I recall my attitude(s) of the previous 24-48 hours. Worse, the snarkiness evaporates just as quickly as it arrives, leaving everyone -- myself included -- wondering "Where the HELL did that come from?".

Well, yes (and "Duh!"), it comes from the hormone fluctuations. I had -- naively and smugly -- thought that, with enough self-awareness and self-control, a woman could largely counter the negative emotional consequences of those fluctuations, and maintain a more even keel. I had -- smugly and naively -- thought that I would be able to do such a thing. I'd laugh wryly over that if I weren't so close to tears ...

Here's the thing that I can't help wondering over, science-geek that I remain: While it obviously is the hormones fluxing that can cause cognitive fluxing, how can we separate that factor from the other stuff that makes us who we are, and how we are? After all, each of us is perpetually bathed in a chemical soup that includes varying levels and proportions of hormones, beginning in utero. Our cognitive abilities (which includes perceiving, thinking, and feeling) emerge out of that soup, so to try to disavow the contribution of one's hormones -- especially only at certain times -- is a disingenuous dodge. How much control can one realistically expect the newer mammalian brain to have over the older and deeper-seated reptilian elements -- and for how long can it be maintained? That isn't to say that I think we ought to expect such control ... I've not kept up with developments in neurobiopsychology, so I don't even know what's possible.

How far does hormonal influence extend -- or is there some point where a person's will can kick in and say, "I'm not going to go there right now"? I used to think a person could have that kind of control, but now I doubt it, given my failed experiments month after month. Post hoc, I'd tell myself that next month it would be different, I'd be alert and diligent and would successfully fend off the Snarky Hormone Monster ... and I'd fail. Given the unique biochemistry of each individual, and its fluctuations, how can someone else claim to know that a person could have exercised more self-control, in order to have averted some disaster?

Why is it that our society has come to accept women's hormones as excuses in some situations for abominable behavior, but not men's? After all, it's well known that increasing testosterone levels increases aggressive behavior ... so why can a woman (sometimes) get off by attributing something to PMS/hot flashes, but a man would just get laughed at if he said something like, "My testosterone made me do it"?

I have no answers to these questions. I toss them out here, in hopes that they might spur others to think about these and related issues. Constructive comments -- and links to related articles -- invited, and will be appreciated. (Derogatory/inflammatory comments and the like will be deleted.)

Meantime, I think I ought to offer another round of apologies ... to anyone who's had to deal with me while I've been on this recent roller-coaster, but especially to the femmes who've probably taken more of it than they deserved -- along with my discounting of their hormonal fluxes: Debra, Claire, Cat, Fran, Katherine, Wendy, Mary Lou, Lady Learning, Sue, Lady Liberty, Mama Liberty, Iloilo, and others I'm sure I'm forgetting ... I'm sorry.

Sunni

Comments: 9 people have spoken!

On Thursday, November 4th, at approximately 3:30 p.m. Mountain time, Mama Liberty said:

Dearest Sunni,
As I don't remember ever being "snarked" by you, I don't need any apologies.

But I do know what you are talking about. My only (bio)sister holds the all time prize for PMS madness, so I've been "snarked" by a real pro on a regular basis for so long it doesn't bother me anymore. Once I decided that I loved her too much to strangle her, I learned to plan our encounters with the calendar in mind.

My own experience with the monthly monster was (I think) as fortunate as your earlier days. My family and first husband may have a different tale to tell, of course, but I don't remember being swung by moods of a monthly sort. My sons will tell you that I was "mad all the time", so that might be the answer. I had permanent PMS? It's all too long ago for me to figure out now. Too much else was going on in those years, and too much has happened since to sort it out.

My youngest son was just four years old when a nice gentleman with an MD after his name relieved me of the whole hormone package, saving me from bleeding to death. It was a pretty good trade, all things considered, but the next three or so years were the most difficult of my life.

I went through menopause in the time it took to be wheeled into surgery and then to recovery. Bang! The ricochets went on for a long time, through a painful divorce and the loss of too many things to bear repeating. I guess his girlfriend didn't have PMS, who knows?

But through it all, with the help and love of many people like you, Sunni, I was able to take the pieces of my life and weave them into something much better than anything I had known before.

I tried hard to be honest with myself and everyone else, to give my best in every situation and to take responsibility for myself through thick and thin. I didn't allow anyone to saddle me with unearned guilt and I didn't let the mistakes made yesterday stop me from starting all over again to do my best with each new day.

That's the path I still tread. It's rough in places, with lots of steep hills, muddy potholes and some hairpin curves that make you slow down and pay attention. It isn't easy, and sometimes it's mighty lonesome, but I've found some wonderful people on that path from time to time and it's been my great joy to walk it a few times with you.

I hope we can walk it together again some time, any time. I've got a pile of hugs with your name on it, and I'd love to give them to you soon.

God bless and keep you.
Love, Mama

On Thursday, November 4th, at approximately 6:07 p.m. Mountain time, Sunni said:

Thanks so much, Mama Liberty! I'd love to squeeze you again, too.

On Friday, November 5th, at approximately 12:39 p.m. Mountain time, Bob Wallace said:

Grunt, snort. Get me a beer, and a fried baloney sandwich with Cheez Whiz on top. No, wait, sorry! It's all that testosterone! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!

On Saturday, November 6th, at approximately 9:39 a.m. Mountain time, ladylearning said:

Sunni,
I don't recall your having ever "snarked" at me but if you did maybe I didn't notice because I was snarkin elsewhere
my best,

LL

On Saturday, November 6th, at approximately 1:17 p.m. Mountain time, Wendy McElroy said:

Drat! You have set a classy example for all of us to follow...and don't think I'll forgive you easily for doing so! Do you *know* how many people deserve an apology from me? In fact, by my reckoning, you are owed a huge apology because I let a certain project drop down a crevice. Someday we'll sit on a rock in the desert -- ala Claire in her recent hiatus -- and I'll tell you the dismal backstory to that incident.

On Saturday, November 6th, at approximately 10:21 p.m. Mountain time, Wendy McElroy said:

Apology accepted on one condition: please accept *my* heartfelt apology to you for letting you down about three years ago on an important issue. It was a terrible period for me as well...but no excuses. You deserved and deserve better. Hell ...I'd argue that you deserve the best.

Your friend,
Wendy McElroy

On Sunday, November 7th, at approximately 5:32 a.m. Mountain time, Sunni said:

Wendy, thanks very much. I'd agree with you about "setting a classy example" except I was a chicken and didn't face each of you to apologize (in person or in email). And ... I love the desert, but now that the fall chill is in the air, my heart is thinking of Canadian snows -- even though that wouldn't be conducive to sitting outside too long (well, not without a thermos of antifreeze, anyway).

LL, my abrupt withdrawal from a place we both hung our hats caused some consternation, IIRC, and has made our developing friendship slow significantly. For that I'm very sorry.

On Sunday, November 7th, at approximately 1:19 p.m. Mountain time, Cat said:

Hi Sunni,

Sorry not to have piped up on this thread sooner. You're a good friend to me, and a little snarkiness between friends - well, who isn't a little bit snarky now and then? Even guys have their snarky moods, apparently.

Lots of writing ideas all trying to tumble out at the same time, and a lawn full of dead leaves on a gorgeous fall day... sigh. What a choice. Mother nature herself seems kinda snarky at times!

L&S,

>^v^<

On Sunday, November 7th, at approximately 3:06 p.m. Mountain time, Sunni said:

S'okay, Cat, a public response isn't required. All the same, thanks for your thoughts, and I agree with you about Mother Nature. Hope you had fun, whichever you decided upon.

Home
Previous entry: "Bravo, Butler! -- And More from Friends"
Next entry: "From the "Expanding On a Bad Idea" Dept."