this is not a love story. period.

it is funny how men answer when they are being asked of turning 30. nothing changes, is the enlighted answer they like to provide. like it is something we should all laugh about. because, truly nothing changes. for them. and then they like to add, you will see. as obviously that is something they know better than you. as always and as anything. but this is not supposed to be praise on mansplaining or getting the forever and ever unsolicited advice. and this has nothing to do with love, expect all for nothing else then womanhood. this is about us being decided by incompetent people who have never even experienced the true pain and glory of being a woman.

i don't feel sorry for them nor for myself. i feel sorry for all those moments when i actually got a chance to stand up for myself and be the wannabe feminist i should have been a long time ago. yet again, not for myself, but for all those women before me. insulted in their faces by a chauvinism of their lives and how to lead it.

and i mean. we do live in a world where a woman is being tested on daily basis. by everything and everybody, especially everybody the men. as if it is not easy to carry the burden of womanhood, we also need to deal with men testing woman of her knowledge.

and let's face it. dating apps are mostly filled with narcissistic men, thinking they know better, so going on a date shows just the proof of it. not even to the particular woman on that place. as much as it hurts to say it, we as females are not the essence of the date. the ego has the leading role, the ego was taken out for a fancy beer.

and as dolly alderton said in her book Ghosts, dating apps are a young man's game. if you wanna do it, you you've got to be in it to win it. i would add, is there even anything to win?

i was thinking of my favorite authors like bukowski, miller and kundera. men being called chauvinists for the sake of writing. being open and honest about personal relationships does not justify being sexist, to shows openness to talk about it. what we are facing right now in a real-world of sexism are those guys, hunting on dating apps, secretly playing a game, because they found out about the rules, in order to prove themselves hidden behind fancy words and classy looks. 

the new age teachers of sexism. by playing it gently. testing you right there on a first date. to prove yet again this is a man's man's world. and right there, it is where the evil is hidden. not in men who wrote about sex and having plenty of women. women do that too. as ts eliot said, this is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but with millennial sexism. let's not blame the dating apps, there is no difference to instagram, the ultimate application for seeking strangers' validation under fake filters. the problem is when people download it. for evil to grow.

it is more about the place, where values like compassion, understanding, connection, and respect had no ground to grow. when kindness cannot flourish, what takes its place?

i have dated plenty and i have dated way too much for my taste. i have spent way too many hours silent when i should have pull the: you think you better than me? and drinks smashing in assholes' faces, card. lastly, i should have simply pulled the card of standing up, walking away, and never looking back. 

this is about us being good girls for years just not disturb anybody with our body. being ashamed for it. hiding it. taking pills to numb the pain because we simply have to live it and bear with it. because you are a woman.

trauma is genetic. inherited. like the curse. it makes me still wonder if as women we were truly enchanted by an evil witch and now it goes on for generations. damn, i do not wish to be kissed by another cute and tall "have you read this book, let me tell you about it" dick when the word charming was not found in the dictionary. so i wonder, now more than ever, are our minds and bodies so traumatized so you find yourself at the doctor's office. listening to the doctor saying to you unimaginable things about your body, while the only thing that goes through your head is. 

i just turned 30. this is not happening.

i am in a dream. again. and i will wake up in 2018.

and by the evening, the very same day, you get asked.

have you thought of freezing your eggs? 

why don't you just go on a pill?

or we can just inject these and those hormones into you, you know, to make you functional. again. 

i was functional before this?

and there we have it.

so if the trauma is inherited. are our female bodies so traumatized that the struggle just continues? and we are facing now names like HPV, polycystic ovaries, and endometriosis. and young girls alone, being scared of something that has tno cure, because nobody knew about it till now, nobody gave a rat's ass. there was nothing to know. we are just women, right? not men in important positions doing politics, wars, and deciding if and how we can have sex. we have it all in our bodies. and nobody looked twice. it is not the question of how many eggs get frozen. it is the question of how the opposite sex controls the female body.

this is how you find yourself in the chair of the doctor's office. where you happen to be scared. god knows what they are going to tell you. guess what, they have no answer. only scans. with words like: see this? and i did and it was scary.

so yea suddenly you just turned 30, the magical number where nothing changes, but all it has already changed. because i knew something was wrong. is this the kind of reality when nothing changes, but you are, here and now, already changed?

and this time it might not have been the missing hormones in my body. is this why am i missing something all the time? perhaps, it is not the lack of connection with somebody and i crave so much, maybe it is the lack of production inside of my ovaries. cause the lack of it being not enough functioning of a woman? this is not a question of being 30 nor the question of how nothing changes for men and everything changes for a woman.

by the age of 28 you become an essay of unanswered questions from society. you became an open book for anybody to judge you even before the doctor opens you like the book that should have been forever closed. and calms one down as you are not the only one. you hear it here and there. and you have neverending compassion for all these women around you. because somehow somewhere you know, you are next in that doctor's office. 

i have not cried properly for my lazy ovaries yet, i kinda feel i have cried enough all last year, because i knew something was wrong. i searched for the wrong in people, not to face my own music.

as i always say, it takes one to be one. it takes even more to be one, when the one you are is not functioning as it should.

i wonder if this is me being brave to publishing this, or me just being so scared to call for somebody out there to know how it feels. or to call for somebody out there, to know you are not being alone.

it is 16 years for me and my period being together. years of pain and complaining. years of hiding, not talking about it, feeling ashamed, for something we should love and cherish. i wonder if us, as a new generation of women with problems appearing on daily basis, is the punishment for us being ashamed for something that cannot be more natural and feminine. something that defines woman as she is, because that something we were trying to hide and pretend that never existed, is the most precious thing we have. 

and i am not even trying to talk about what it gives us for life, how to handle pain and how to get to know our bodies better. the kind of connection men can never understand. they only can dream about it when they make fake situations to feel something at least similar to what women can feel. each and every cycle of life.

i wonder if we are being punished for decisions that were made by men about female bodies. i wonder if all that toxicity we needed to bear all those generations now shows on us. 

because, it might get better, you are still young, but this, this is not going to go away easily.

last year, maybe two, gave me a completely different perspective on my body. on my missing period. on my stagnating ovulation and on how other people treat it. not physically precisely. mentally. how my body as something that should produce another human has not been given enough respect. not just by others.  by me. 

how i have let myself down in all those situations when asked questions nobody has the right to ask. nobody has the right to make sexist jokes, and nobody has the right to compare my years to another person's life. especially a person without a uterus. 

because let's face it, no uterus, no opinion. 

no ovaries, no opinion.

do you remember that joke circling around the internet one time: men cannot trust women, because they bleed for one week without dying?

should we trust somebody with an opinion about women's lives when they do not understand how can we produce this magic without, actually, dying? 

and yet again, as this might seem like an attack on people born with penises, it is rather me trying to figure it out what kind of society raised me for shaming myself for something, i missed the most, the moment i almost lost it. 

but hey, we are in it to win it, right? when we were not even invited for a game we never wanted to play.

as a disclaimer by the end of this article, this is not meant to attack men, rather to help me find my own feministic voice by expressing my opinions in a way i please and i am entitled to. also, this may be read one day by a woman who is also alone and scared of the information she has just found out about her own body. and it helps to know we are not alone. there is compassion and kindness to find stillness inside of who we really are.