Should I Freeze My Eggs? (Part 2)

I don’t have an answer and I feel like I’m working to an hourglass that is emptying quicker than the cogs of my brain are moving.

It was on a Tuesday at 2pm that I posted the first part of this article on my instagram stories, as I always do. It’s a way of letting people know that aside from mocking the French, I also write. And maybe there will be something I write about that intrigues someone and maybe they will be tempted to click the link and voilà. At 7pm I deleted the story. It began with a message from someone I know: “Yes you shoullllllddddd (freeze your eggs)”. I was taken aback by the emphasis of her DM. The imperative of it. Then from someone I didn’t know: “Yes”. Just that. Then another. Then another. Then a man: “Definitely do it!”. Merci Arnaud.

I’m not sure what I expected, maybe a similar response to when I discuss dating or break ups. I expect people might be intrigued and keen to share their own stories but I don’t expect people to tell me what to do. As If I was debating a tooth extraction or whether or not to get a fringe. I’m probably being overly sensitive, after all, I’m the one who put the question out there. And it was a question: “Should I freeze my eggs?” Verb, subject, question mark at the end. A classic formula inviting an answer. An invitation to an opinion.

I’ve never deleted an instagram story before. I’ve never been offended by people’s comments. I’ve never cared when people told me they didn’t like something or that I’m not funny or that my outfit is awful. I’ve never felt like I’ve overshared before, even when discussing my sex life or 11pm plumbing adventures. But that Tuesday, that story, those DMs… I was caught off guard by how uneasy I felt watching my inbox flood with messages. I was surprised by my own impulse to delete the instagram story.