Don't know how to guess

 You might as well use Morse code to speak your thoughts.

I tried to get along with women for many years
and finally gave up...

    (google translate doesn't understand he/she things too) 

I tried to get along with women for many years and finally gave up when I realized why I couldn't understand them (I know it's weird because I'm a woman too) and messed up when talking to most of them - we have a completely different language.

As a child, I was left at home with my brother, who was seven years older, but when I grew up and could go out in the yard, I knew all of my brother's friends, who also partly raised me because they would come home to play with him while my mom was at work and I was with him. Since they were also supposed to watch over me in the backyard, they would sit near the sandbox and playground, and I would sit with them at their house when my brother wanted to visit them. Because of this, I didn't have many woman-friends, as I only had one throughout elementary school, but I had many male friends. Spending time with them, listening to conversations and life advice, more or less wise, shaped me into the superwoman I became. 

For a long time, I didn't know what it meant to have a complex, ( until I got pregnant and started talking to women more.) that you can look in the mirror and think you're fat when you're not. I also didn't understand the obsession with stuffing bras with toilet paper, worrying about bust size, leg length, etc. To be honest, I didn't even understand my woman friend's desire to please boys, because talking and spending time with them was always natural to me - no subtext.

I am the woman who understands men's thinking, their overtones, texts, picking up girls and thinking about them. As I mentioned, I've been around them since I was a kid, which meant they had no resistance to saying anything in front of me - they treated me like a little sister or, dude. and even the ones I met later learned that quickly. And so my language, vocabulary and behaviour for a long time were more like that of a boy, until puberty, when I acquired more girlish habits from not very numerous female friends of my man-friends (ironically). As a woman, I was small, gruff, with lots of information about what men think about women, what they expect, and what worries them and a lack of understanding of women's behaviour

Women talk differently and think differently.
 I convinced myself of this every time I tried to get along with one
.

Women talk differently and think differently. I convinced myself of this every time I tried to get along with one.

To this day I don't understand women's overtones, I hear that I'm rude when I speak plainly - in male terms. They look at me strangely when I talk to their boyfriends without bringing up any subject with them, and I can honestly say I do it without any subtext and probably even out of habit. and these women are looking for hidden intentions in what I say. And for a more obvious reason - the list of topics I have with guys, while I have almost none with women.

For that matter, I don't know how to do make-up - I only paint my eyelashes, I've never learned how to use makeup, eyeshadows, and certain foundations, powders, liners and other gadgets that maybe I should use soon as I'm approaching forty. The reason? None of my male friends painted themselves.

Until my pregnancy, I had no idea about children. Of course, being a very ambitious person and one who appreciates books, I learned everything in 6 months of my pregnancy that should be taught = before a child turn the age of 3. I knew the rest from school, from my internships at daycare centres and schools while studying to be a social worker. But, as for pregnancy, it was all a terrible surprise to me because, as you might guess, none of my male-friends had ever been pregnant or talked about it much.

I don't style my hair. I don't use hairspray or lotion and I can't get it right, always too much, always too little. I don't know how it is that even though hairdressers have taught me, I still can't do it.

I get offended. I take offence at any woman who thinks I know what she's thinking and what she means when she doesn't tell me and makes eyes like - "I'd fart but I'm ashamed" or exophthalmos that to me at first association would mean a heart attack or asthma. Good Lord, I don't know what "that kind of face" means. Seriously! I even thought recently the last time that I met "this person" I thought she just zone out during our conversation, and then someone told me that she was: "mad at me" during the conversation...  And someone on the side said she was mad.

Leave it to your friend, and leave the inhaling, exhaling,
and foot-stomping to yourself. What's the point of all this?

"You know what I mean..."  I won't know when you're telling me your story about your next best guy who pissed you off. And you disrespecting yourself, and making a difference. But I can explain to you what he is thinking and why he did it, unlike your behaviour, I understand his behaviour.

Dear women, speak plainly, stop wheezing, snorting, sighing and making those weird faces called "that face". ' I sympathize with men having to try to understand you. For that, dear men, I admit that I love you for that simplicity, divisibility of thought, logic and sense of humour. And Jesus Mary for the fact that you talk with a sense and to the point (most of it) just problem-plan-strategy-action, and for most circumstances, you have plenty of jokes and the world up to your ass when you need."

It's funny being a woman and not understanding most of it, luckily there are some exceptions.

Ps. Through hanging out with guys (I think) I have acquired another "annoying" quality - my brain shuts down when you don't talk about something concrete, something to think about or something to do with it - so if you say blablabla, and you don't say it for something, for a purpose, I don't listen but not maliciously, I don't control it. I just hear that you say, but I do not know what, because it blends together and mutes, moreover I can not do anything about it, because it happens by itself. Don't get mad at men's - it really happens on its own.