I was thinking that we could amuse ourselves today by thinking of all the reasons we still enjoy being women, in spite of -- well, whatever.

On the one hand, there are the serious advantages. Multiple orgasms: what's not to like? Which part is your favourite? I like that feeling that it is raining inside my legs, all the way down to my feet, to my toes. Whee.

(Just doing my part there for the creation of woman-positive porn.)

And then there are the lighter topics, like giving birth, maybe, or nail polish, or our superior powers of logic and our much-better balanced centres of gravity.

The big one is giving birth. Pregnancy, too. Creating a life and sustaining it. Endurance and will (I did it without pain meds!). The amazing feeling of being absolutely vulnerable and powerful, unstoppable -- simultaneously. More primal than anything I've ever imagined.

Breastfeeding. Sustaining that little life out of yourself is amazing.

Oh, crap, now I'm in "I wanna have another one!!!" mode...

I also like that nobody raises an eyebrow at the colour I wear. Playing with image via clothing, makeup, hair... We have much more leeway than men do.

A different kind of strength, more endurance and flexibility than immediate power.

Not having to pretend i'm not afraid of something any sane person should be afraid of.

Being allowed to cry when i'm sad, upset, angry or frustrated.

I enjoy being a woman because it's such a nice complement to the women in my life and such a nice contrast to the men in my life. And sometimes, the other way around.

Though it'll be better when it's not this way, there's some satisfaction in the struggle. The accomplishments that are still noteworthy "for a girl" and the sense of having achieved more against somewhat greater odds.

I like menstruating, despite the cramps and the pre-period moods. It makes me feel like I'm part of something bigger, a piece of the natural female world, instead of just one chick. I like the potential that menstruating implies, even if I choose never to realize it.

And damnit, I'm not too shy to say that I love having breasts. Those men who say that if they had them, they'd stay home all day in front of the mirror? Right there with you, boys.

I like the contradictions - bursting into tears from nothing besides a raised voice, but always being the one called upon to get rid of the spider or fix crack in the plaster.

I like the strength inside the softness, the iron fist in the velvet glove and such. It's good to seem to be one thing but also to be another. (Surely that can also be true of being a man, but we'll celebrate the fellas somewhere else.)