17/10/2023
The Life of an O***y
After my weekend of study I’ve concluded that the life of an o***y is much like the life of a lady.
We have a pretty straight forward time of it until we hit around 12 years of age and all of a sudden life as we know it begins to change. All of a sudden our chest needs contained, we grow hair in the most unsavoury places and we start to smell a bit of a funk! What’s just happened…that’s right, the ovaries have kicked into action.
If you’re lucky enough the next few years should be okay. Once a month the ovaries let go of one of those precious jewels and a couple of weeks later we’re walking to our next class asking our friend, ‘am I okay at the back?’ 🩸
A few more years down the line and we’ve met our match. We hear a baby cry and the ovaries start to twitch. Maybe it’s time to let that little egg meet its match. Boom, we’re pregnant….ovaries go into hormone making overdrive and we feel every bit of it. Your hair may grow long and luscious but you’ll most definitely gag at the smell of the toaster! 🤰
Baby has arrived, but neither mother or o***y have a minute to spare. Six weeks later she’s back in her groove.
Then we hit our late forties/ early fifties and for some of us; s**t hits the fan! Our ovaries are tired, fatigued, they haven’t taken a break in years…am I talking about the o***y or the owner?
But maybe this is where the o***y and the lady’s uncanny similarities start to fade. In all her womanly glory the o***y is letting us know her job is complete. It’s time to check out and retire from duty. And hasn’t she done a wonderful job. Alas, that last little egg is released; her work is done!
So let’s not bash that pair of ovaries; let’s celebrate the work that’s been done, the lives that have been created and memories we’ve made. That’s not to say they’re going to bow out gracefully, really like any woman, they’re not going down without a fight. You may put your car keys in the fridge, or itch like a dog, maybe you’ll not feel like you for a while…but that’s where the sweet potatoes and the HRT step in.
So perhaps going forward we can change the narrative. We can allow our bodies to make these changes and instead of dreading growing old and wrinkly, we can celebrate the job that’s been done. Listen ladies, we’ve another 1/3 of this life to go. The ovaries might have retired but the next stage of glorious life begins at 60 ❤️
