Are Women Really Superior to Men?

By Salma N. Ajani

While doing my search for this idea, I came across something interesting on the web. At a hospital the relatives gathered in the waiting room, where a family member lay gravely ill. Finally, the doctor came in looking tired and serious.

Surveying the worried faces, the doctor said, “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad news. The only hope left for your loved one at this time is a brain transplant. It’s an experimental procedure, very risky, you will have to pay for the brain yourselves.”

The family members sat silent as they absorbed the news. After a great length of time, someone asked, “Well, how much does a brain cost?” The doctor quickly responded, “$5,000 for a male brain, and $200 for a female brain.”

The moment turned awkward. Men in the room tried not to smile; avoiding eye contact with the women, but some actually smirked. One man, unable to control his curiosity, blurted out the question everyone wanted to ask, “Why is the male brain so much more expensive?”

The doctor smiled at the childish innocence and said to the entire group, “It’s just standard pricing procedure. We have to mark down the price of the female brains, because they’ve been used.”

Keeping all kidding aside, let’s answer this age old question; evaluate what we know up to this point, scientifically as well as culturally. Are women really superior to men?

Now research is confirming that the brains of men and women are somewhat different. Studies show that human male brains are, on average, approximately 10 percent larger than female brains. Certain brain areas in women, however, contain more nerve cells.

We must pay special interest on the amount of “gray matter,” the part of the brain that allows us to think. The researchers wanted to know if women have as much gray matter as men or more to make up for the smaller brains. Later, it was proven that women have 55.4 percent gray matter, vs. 50.8 in men.

Men listen with only one side of their brains, while women use both, according to information on brain imaging presented in November 2002, at the 86th Scientific Assembly and Annual Meeting of the Radiological Society of North America (RSNA).

Other research suggests that on average the female brain performs better on some skills, while the male brain executes other tasks at a higher level. It makes sense that brains vary between the sexes. Each sex had a very defined role in ancient time, which helped ensure the survival of the human race. Cave men hunted. Cave women gathered food near the home, and cared for the children.

None of these show superiority, but does show that we are made differently, with different needs, and different ideas. Why do we then compare for superiority, or even expect the other to be just like us?

It is important to realize that man and women are made differently, for a reason. Especially women, need someone she can talk to, share her ideas with and grow with. Man need to hunt, to protect, not ask for directions when they are lost, or I should say just be Men.

In old times, especially in Asian and Eastern cultures, women had many disadvantages (compared to now). Male Emperors would marry many women. Society did not provide woman with many rights. Women were pretty much confined to their homes. However, despite of these disadvantages, there were few women who had access to that woman wisdom, or power. Now, what was the difference between those women, who found their power, vs. those who did not?

The answer is synergy. These powerful women were each other’s support. No jealousies, no putting other women down; just supporting each other to the best of their ability. In fact, when the male emperor would mate with one of his wives, other wives would take care of that wife ahead of time. Give her massages, feed her wonderful and healthy foods, talk to her, and provide her with all the emotional support that was needed.

Today, women have more rights, more freedom, better living conditions. They are lot more aggressive, but they still do not feel as empowered, peaceful and in control.

In today’s society, the concept of women bonding is pretty much lost. Even when a woman goes to different feminine organizations, her goal is networking, improving her business, and benefiting anything and everything, but herself.

If you pay close attention and realize that the difference between a plant, which is alive, and a plant which is dead, is the plant which is alive, is growing. In order for our children to survive, and humankind to flourish in the future, our children must evolve beyond us. In order for them to go beyond us, they need to understand life from all points of view, both male and female. That is why we are here, to teach, to guide, and to help the universe expand and evolve with our differences.

One day I was flipping TV channels where I came across one of those shows where a priest was giving a sermon. He asked something very interesting to his congregations. The question was, “What is the best thing a father can do for their children”? The answer was “Love their mother”. Now this is something I have learned all through my life in my family as to how much powerful a woman can be. I do not mean physically or even mentally. In fact, I grew up learning that my brothers were much smarter and stronger then I was. But there was always this converse of women power or women wisdom, which was always talked about, but was never clarified.

Many women do not realize that their superiority and strength comes from bonding with other women. Man can’t full fill all of your needs and desires. When it comes to emotional bonding, which usually comes from talking, sharing and connecting, girlfriends are the key. Cherish your friends, and specially your women friendships.

Both Man and woman need to be supportive and a source of strength for each other, but timing is the key. Women who have other women to bond with, to share with, to educate and grow with, have more peaceful marriages. These women do not desire to talk to their husbands as soon as he walks into the home, tired from work. In fact, they become source of strength and support for him.

More then half of the marriages end up in divorce in this country. Some time it feels that all the advancement are coming to us with a hefty price. More and more women find themselves helpless, in one form or the other. All it boils down to is that all the power and freedom did not come with the wisdom it required. Woman before us got us the power to move forward, now, it is our responsibility to add wisdom to this power before passing on to our next generation.

The difference between man and women are logical. It makes sense that brains vary between the sexes. Men tend to be more natural-born protectors while women are natural-born nurturers. When women use these natural abilities to form, cultivate, and foster business relationships, they can create lasting business associations in the business circle.

To answer the question, are women superior to men? The answer is, it does not really matter, if we choose not to use that power and wisdom already given to us. From the beginning of the time, only a handful of women are using their full power and wisdom. They understand, and choose to learn and choose to use their strengths. Whether you are a at-home mom or a working women, understanding and connecting with other woman, educating ourselves and truly supporting each other, will help us be who we naturally are, phenomenal women.

Salma Ajani is the Managing Consultant at Ajani & Associates. She is a full-time professional speaker/trainer, author, and consultant, and specializes in the concept of “Women” and “Accelerating Change”. She has worked with Anthony Robbins as a Corporate Speaker, while traveling with his seminars all over the country. Salma uses therapeutic models in her work, such as NLP (Neuro-Linguistic Programming), Erickisonian Hypnosis, Virginia Satir’s Family Therapy, Silva Method, and Richard Bandler’s DHE (Design Human Engineering). ajani.com

Loving Your Curves

By S.D. Craig

Have you fought your weight all your life?  I know the feeling.  Why can’t we just give up and love ourselves?  Quit comparing skin with Jennifer Love Hewitt or some other tiny thing?  For once, I’d like to see someone more normal on Friends.  Do they have to be THAT attractive?

I, for one, welcomed Rosanne, a thicker Cybill, Rosie, and the rest.  And Rose of the Titanic fame was a normal size.  She even floated!

Is it this world and the way they view women that are larger?  Our upbringing?  What we read, see on TV and the movies?

It’s all of these things.  Society has drilled into our heads for decades we need to be thin, thin, thin.  Do you remember seeing many itty bitty pioneer women?  And the nudes on the paintings years ago?  No way.

Family who are concerned over your health, your living longer, sometimes do more harm than good with their comments and suggestions.  Don’t they know SUPPORT is the key?

Why not stand up for women with substance?  There’s more to love.  I really enjoy the articles in Mode magazine, too.  Cheers to curvaceous ladies.  Reading that magazine makes me feel good as a woman.

My husband thinks soft bellies and voluptuous lines, big breasts and acres of creamy skin is what a woman is all about.  He loves curves and something to grab on to.  Am I ever lucky?  You bet.

Whew.

I mean, somewhere after giving birth, the body just relocates where it wants to.  Some friend once told me it just shifts to a new shape with each kid.  ARGH!  So I stopped at two daughters.

I have found that enjoying life means enjoying food, too, for me.  I love eating out, having some man slave over the chef’s stove in the back of a restaurant for me.  Ain’t life grand?  I mean, what woman doesn’t want to hear these words on a Friday night, “Would you like to eat out, honey?”  Hooray!  Was it written on my face?

And doesn’t exercise play a much more important role in your life than you ever dreamed in high school?  So much I took for granted back then, the daily horseback rides after school, the sports we played, the walk to the bus stop.  Then, you graduate, and poof.  It’s all over, you go to work, have babies, and (is that what Baby Boomer means, they’re talking about our body?) expand.  Also, you forget to exercise.

I began walking seriously in the Fall of ’93 and walk five or six days a week, at least 2-3 miles.  Walking does one obvious thing for me — I’m a *firm* big gal.  Most people think I weigh 80 pounds less than I do.  Walking keeps me going, gives me hope, keeps me in check.  It makes me feel good about what I’m doing for myself.  Being a writer, I take time and smell  the outdoors, see the flowers bloom, admire the dew of a fresh rain, and am amazed at storm clouds gathering.

Yes, weight is always a battle.  The scales (who the hell invented those dreadful pieces of metal anyway?) leer up at me after every weekend.  You bet I own stock in New Balance shoes and walking shorts/pants.

Am I yet at peace with being a larger woman?  I’m trying.  I am also still trying to be a smaller big woman.  But I strive for happiness as I go…

Next time you look in the mirror, embrace the curves.  As your husband puts his arms around you and finds softness, be glad.  He needs a cushion from the real world and you are it.  You are beautiful and worthy, any way you want to be.

Let’s celebrate women with curves!

SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname “Chatterbox” by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.

Disenchanted September

By Cherie Magnus
August 8, 2000

Tired of going to Europe alone and inspired by romantic films of the Edwardian Grand Tour, I asked all my friends one April, “Want to rent a villa in Tuscany?” And several did.

Because it was spring, we had time for monthly planning get-togethers where we decided on which villa, what and how many cars, personal travel styles, airline tickets. We watched “Enchanted April” on video and had potlucks of Tuscan food.

We six women had all known each other for years, working in different departments of the same library system. All of us single, we frequently got together at gourmet restaurants and chowed down, bonding through food.

People turned envious when they heard our plans, “Wow, a villa near Florence for two weeks, how fabulous!” I too was exhilarated about having a home base in Italy, and a group of women to see Tuscany with. I enjoyed solo travel, but now I’d have a different perspective, plus the relief of not eating alone in restaurants all the time.

On the flight to Florence the six of us were high on excitement, sitting in one row in the middle of the 747, laughing over the idea of it really happening.

Things first started to go wrong at the Florence airport. Monica’s bags were lost, maybe due to her late check-in at the curb at LAX, and the dark cloud of missing luggage pursued us. We got our two rental cars, and 3 by 3, we found our way out of town and up into the hills to the northwest.

We picked up our keys at the big manor house surrounded by vineyards where the Contessa, our landlady, lived and directed her family’s winery business. Then our two little European Fords convoyed higher up the green hills, through more vineyards heavy with grapes, by a lake, over a bridge, past a chapel, to our villa, Frantoia.

It was just like the photo in the catalog: stone, two stories, old, with a swimming pool. There were five bedrooms, three baths, a living room, a big kitchen with a walk-in fireplace and an ancient stone sink. The largest room was the dining room with a huge trestle table and benches. No modern conveniences, but for very erratic and undependable water heaters that had to be switched on and off. There was no extra charge for the resident bat.

We pulled names for room assignments, two of us doubling up, the other four in their own bedrooms. The first morning I threw open the old wooden shutters to a flock of sheep grazing below the window, the weathered shepherd and his two dogs silhouetted against the morning sun. The mist-touched Tuscan hills behind them seemed to go on forever.

An excursion to the town of Arrezo was today’s agenda due to the annual medieval jousting fair like the Palio of Sienna, but less touristy. We stood at the edge of narrow cobbled streets watching the colorful pageantry that has stayed the same since the middle ages.

Lunch was outdoors on the square, and even though we had gone to the market and loaded up with provisions for the house, I hadn’t eaten much. Now I was starving and ordered a salad and a pasta course, plus desert and cappuccino. I rejoiced at the food. We were in Italy!

Our money plan was a kitty for household expenses, and splitting restaurant checks equally. Now at our first restaurant meal there was a problem. Instead of merely dividing the check, there was the “ladies at lunch” syndrome of, “Well, I only had the soup, so mine is…” Never mind what people ate at the villa from the communal provisions. This was the second clue that things were not going as we had planned in L.A.

Another big issue was the two cars. Even though we all paid equally for their rental, and we were all listed on the insurance, the two women who put them on their credit cards became selfishly possessive and wanted to determine who and where and how the cars went. Furthermore even though we were six, one had left her license at home, another just hurt her foot, a third couldn’t drive at night.

As the ranks of drivers shrank, power struggles emerged, with sides chosen: there were the red car people and the green car team, a bit like the jousting at Arezzo only less friendly. The whole idea of two small cars was that we would have more freedom to each do what we wanted with whom we chose. But somehow it didn’t work that way.

The culmination of the Car Wars was one early morning when the three who were going to Rome for the day to see the Pope, drove off the cliff in front of the house in the dark. Luckily no one was hurt, but the green car was marooned. The Rome-goers then took the red car, and the other three women waited around the villa all day until the farmer showed up at sunset on his tractor to yank the car back from the brink and onto the road.

The food issue deteriorated quickly into petty lists of who bought what, who owed how much, and going to the market or a restaurant became a nightmare.

By our final “gala” dinner at a hotel in the nearby village of Ruffina, instead of celebrating our two weeks together in Italy, plus the two birthdays that occurred, we celebrated the end, that the togetherness was finally finito. We all were tense, and rude, and over the birthday cake, even foul language erupted. In fact the six middle-aged American librarians made a scene in this little Italian hotel’s dining room.

The next morning we all went our separate ways, two to Venice, me to Slovenia, the other three back to L.A., where even now, a year later, the red team and the green team no longer socialize.

The bat? Well one night when Jennifer turned on the electric oven to dry some lingerie, the whole house fell into darkness. We had blown a fuse. We managed to light candles, but a call to the Contessa revealed the necessity of finding our way through the dark to the fuse box in an unused part of the house. “Don’t worry about the bat,” the Contessa said. “He is harmless.” A BAT! Sure enough, as the three women bravest among us took a candle and went to the unremodeled back of the ancient house, there was the bat on a rafter! He swooped, there were screams, and then the candle went out.

The fuse waited for Mario the next day.
Between the lost luggage, different food priorities, power struggles over the cars, and the bat, our romantic sojourn in the Tuscan hills didn’t turn out quite as planned or hoped. Not the fault of Italy, which regarded the American ladies’ folly with the wisdom of centuries. Not the fault of the beautiful and warm Italian people, who looked like they had stepped down from the Renaissance paintings in the Uffizi Museum. And not the fault of the Contessa’s old stone farmhouse.

(c) Copyright 2000 Cherie Magnus

This article has been previously published in Skirt! and Moxie.

With degrees in English, Dance, and Library Science from UCLA, Cherie has published many articles in professional journals and magazines. Her solo travels to Europe and Latin America have inspired several pieces published in Skirt!, PassionFruit, Moxie, JourneyWoman, Dancing USA, GoNomad, Open Spaces, Porthole, The Cusco Weekly, the-vu, and various online magazines. She was the dance critic for the Cerritos News in Orange County, California before moving to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. She is currently at work on a novel situated in France, when she’s not out dancing. Follow her blog at http://tangocherie.blogspot.com/