But here’s the flip side. Sometimes, another woman catches your eye and gives a small, knowing nod. Sometimes a kind stranger shifts over to give you a little more room. Sometimes you laugh internally at the absurdity of it all—because really, what other species has to navigate rush hour with two extra organs strapped to their ribcage?

Let’s talk about it.

You board at 8:15 AM. The bus is already standing-room only. You find a spot near the back, turn sideways to minimize your profile, and try to breathe in. But as the bus lurches forward, so do you—and suddenly, your chest is at eye level with a seated passenger. Neither of you acknowledges it. Both of you pretend it’s fine.