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Published Letters: 23
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Certainly there is a lot going on here, and many of the previous posters have totally valid points.
But we see the same phenomenon in graduate school discussion classes (my experience is in the natural sciences). Female grad students are much less likely to raise their hands in response to a professor's question -- this is especially pronounced in the first few years of their PhD. Whereas male students will raise their hands and waffle on about any topic, even if they really don't know what they are talking about. Generally, it comes down to women wanting to be sure of their information/opinion/facts before putting themselves out there. Women seem to have a greater fear of "sounding stupid" than their male peers.
A similar phenomenon is observed in publication of scientific papers -- male scientists are much more likely to submit rough/quickly done manuscripts for publication than their female peers, who tend to take much longer and be more perfectionist before allowing their work to be seen by others.
Honestly, I don't think it has anything to do with women not having opinions or being less informed -- it's mostly about not wanting to appear ignorant.
At some point back in college, I decided to go with the direct approach because I was paranoid about sending mixed signals. I enjoyed the occasional hookup, but wasn't comfortable with casual sex. So before things got too hot and heavy, I'd just say outright in some form or another "we're not going to have sex tonight". Oddly enough, every guy (save one) I said that to seemed relieved to know what the limit was and so we could continue and have some fun without the stress of "does she want IT or doesn't she"? Some of my girlfriends were mortified that I was so upfront with guys instead of being coy, but it seemed better than risking any sort of 'faulty male introspection',...er...miscommunication.
During my pregnancies, my "cravings" were almost always driven not by the intense need for something, but rather an identification of a food that did not make me want to hurl. I had horrible "morning" sickness and was throwing up every day for the first 20+ weeks. On a given day, only certain foods seemed remotely edible and one identified, it was eat THAT or eat NOTHING (and I'm not one for going without). So to the untrained eye, it was a craving.
That said, during both pregnancies, I craved cigarettes (and I don't smoke). I always attributed it to the smell -- one get superhero smell capabilities when one is pregnant and if one lives in a large metropolitan area (e.g. NYC), this is NOT a pleasant super-sense to have. So I figured the cigarette smoke would cover up the over-abundance of smell. But now I wonder if it wasn't the ash I was craving (similar to charcoal)....
Good job pointing out the ridiculousness of the CNN article. It's definitely one to leave you scratching your head.
Don't get me wrong -- pregnancy is HELL (well, it has been for me. Worst 9 + 7 months of my life) and if I had the extra money laying around to pamper myself, I'd jump at the chance. Then again, my idea of pampering would be regular pedicures and the occasional pre-natal massage. And I'm skeptical even that would make much of a difference...
Most women I know are pinching every penny when pregnant to save up for what typically turns into an extended maternity leave ( = no pay) if you want to spend more than 6 weeks with your newborn. At least in my profession, you're expected to work until your water breaks and if you leave work more than a couple of weeks before your due date (without strict doctors orders), you're made to feel like a wimp. It's just such a ridiculous system we have here in the U.S. Seriously, 6 weeks? Eight if you have a c-section? Give me a break. In Canada, I believe it is 10 months and in much of Europe up to a year. But here, you have to scrape all your vacation and sick days together and not leave until you're on your way out the door to the hospital to be sure you can have a little extra time to recover and, you know, get to know your little bundle of joy. Sigh.