Bitch

Bitch

 

In light of some recent rumblings, I thought I’d throw my two cents in the wishing well…

 

I won’t deny that being called, “BITCH” hurts me.  My first reaction is usually to withdraw into my Self and start blubbering a la Evelyn (Kathy Bates’s character in the movie version of “Fried Green Tomatoes (at the Whistle Stop Café) by Fannie Flagg); ‘why?!  What’d I do?!?  Why?  What did I do to deserve THAT?’

 

The truth is, most of the times I did nothing to deserve being called a bitch.  Every situation is a tad different.  But most of the times, if I look at whom are calling me a bitch, well then it all makes sense.

 

Usually that person is very upset that I am not agreeing with his (usually is male, sorry guys) opinion, orders, or other points of view.  So usually he quickly recovers from his shock that anyone, let alone a mere woman, voiced her differing opinion, daring to disobey his previously unchallenged rules….his anger flashes hot and usually he retaliates by calling me a bitch, sometimes then followed by what he thinks are additional insults.

 

In those cases, I am secure in my knowledge, in my right to voice my opinion, in my right to choose my own actions (and not follow his order), and in my Self.  I know who I am.  If his definition of bitch is that I disagree with him.  Well, then, I can wear the label with ease, usually taking heart in the fact that I don’t agree with him.

 

I usually take that attitude regarding other criticism that is not valid or constructive.  Rather than sink to their level and engage in petty quibble that can escalate into flaming wars, I choose to ignore those little irritants and move on.  Sometimes silence is golden.