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Blogging American - as the Yank in Oz

 
Former American city girl now living in the bush in Australia. I am a freelance column writer for a Central Queensland newspaper. I love my life, I love my kids, and I love being a Yank in Oz. PageRank

It's my brain's fault I worry so much...

May 3rd 2010 22:34
I’ve always been known as a bit of a worry wart; my husband is the exact opposite. It’s not that I don’t want to have fun; it’s just the things he wants to do can sometimes be dangerous, and let’s face it I’m not getting any younger.

I’ve done some research and found out that (bear with me here) the female’s brain is quite different to the man’s. There is something called the anterior cingulated cortex, or ACC for short, that is considered the “fretting center” of a woman’s brain. And guess what? It’s much larger than a male’s.


And just so you know, the Hippocampus, or “memory processor”, is also larger and more active in women. So we really do remember what you said five years ago during that fight.

That being said, I now realize that it is completely out of my control (wink wink) to not worry. It’s just my brain doing its job.

So when my husband’s friend purchased a new quad runner and he wanted me to go for a ride, being a bit afraid of what might happen was just a natural reaction from my hard-working ACC. But I decided to throw caution to the wind and trust my hubby.

As soon as we got on the bike, we had a clear road ahead of us and we took off and top speed.

“Don’t complain”, I thought as I gripped his shirt tighter.

And after a few minutes I was actually enjoying myself. We didn’t have helmets on but I trusted my macho husband because he had driven these more times than he could count.

After getting a fair way from the house, we decided to take the bike back in case anyone else wanted to go for a spin. Jokingly (or so I thought) my husband asked me if I would like to do some doughnuts. My gut reaction was “Hell No!” but hey, I was crazy, do anything girl now so I said, “Let’s do it!”


The last thing I remember before hitting the ground is desperately trying to hang onto my husband as both of our bums were sliding off of the seat from the torque of the spinning. And then we came off.

I landed on my chin and noticed I tasted blood; I also had a split lip. I would find out in the days to follow that I had apparently shaved a bit of skin off during the landing from my right thigh and arm.

You better believe my Hippocampus isn’t going to forget this one.
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Comment by True1

May 30th 2010 14:53
This story proves we worry for a reason! Lol. Without women to stop ( nag ) them there would be hardly any men left due to a huge increase in accidental deaths.

Actually, I noticed a big increase in my worry quotient when I became a Mom.

Great post

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