As a woman, it’s wild how much hormones affect things. Most of the time, I can walk by a playground where kids are playing and not think much of it. But when my estrogen levels peak, the sound of happy children hits me deep - their laughter reminds me of the pure joy of childhood. How it feels to swing on a swing without a care. Having nothing to worry about except being tagged during a game. Knowing there are people who will look out for you, unconditionally, so you don’t have to worry about affording rent or food or health care.
I’m instantly filled with the sense of happy freedom they’re expressing, which is so beyond adulthood experience that it can overwhelm me. That’s when I start to cry.
I’m well aware of the downsides of childhood. Still, in those moments, it’s like the kids’ collective happiness transfers straight into me and my brain doesn’t know what to do with so much innocent bliss.
So, I can concede that there is likely at least some hormonal influence that results in different emotional perceptions for different people. I’m already very empathic, but peak estrogen seems to dial it up to 11.
Then toxic masculinity attempts to exaggerate such differences, while also misapplying the concept in order to separate people into assigned gender roles. Boys are absolutely socialized to suppress many of their emotions, while girls aren’t subject to the same rule. Except, of course, with anger or public sadness. (Crying alone? That’s expected. But not smiling while in public? That’s a sin.)
Like most things about people, it’s a mix of nature and nurture (and epigenetics.)
As a woman, it’s wild how much hormones affect things. Most of the time, I can walk by a playground where kids are playing and not think much of it. But when my estrogen levels peak, the sound of happy children hits me deep - their laughter reminds me of the pure joy of childhood. How it feels to swing on a swing without a care. Having nothing to worry about except being tagged during a game. Knowing there are people who will look out for you, unconditionally, so you don’t have to worry about affording rent or food or health care.
I’m instantly filled with the sense of happy freedom they’re expressing, which is so beyond adulthood experience that it can overwhelm me. That’s when I start to cry.
I’m well aware of the downsides of childhood. Still, in those moments, it’s like the kids’ collective happiness transfers straight into me and my brain doesn’t know what to do with so much innocent bliss.
So, I can concede that there is likely at least some hormonal influence that results in different emotional perceptions for different people. I’m already very empathic, but peak estrogen seems to dial it up to 11.
Then toxic masculinity attempts to exaggerate such differences, while also misapplying the concept in order to separate people into assigned gender roles. Boys are absolutely socialized to suppress many of their emotions, while girls aren’t subject to the same rule. Except, of course, with anger or public sadness. (Crying alone? That’s expected. But not smiling while in public? That’s a sin.)
Like most things about people, it’s a mix of nature and nurture (and epigenetics.)