Warning: You are about to read the word "bitch" a lot.
Calling all bitches. Calling all women who have been called "bitch" and wondered what they were doing to deserve it. Calling all who aren't sure about the word bitch or who hate the word bitch. This article is for you, about you.
Scenario time: You tell your friend about the time you shut down a customer for yelling at you. You had thrown your metaphorical fist down and exercised policy. You had threatened to call CPS if you weren't left alone. Your friend smiles. She says, "You bitch." You smile. You know you are. It's just as good when the customer walks away muttering, "What a bitch."
I strive for it, buddy.
Bitch is my favorite. Don't you think I know I'm a bitch?
Bitch is my word. It's the highest compliment you can give me. It means I'm independent, strong, mouthy, determined, and assertive. I make decisions when the going gets tough. In realms where I am in charge, I call the shots and take responsibility for them. In realms where I am not in charge, I listen, even obey—but not blindly. I think critically and prioritize. I speak up when I have an idea. I say no. I say, "You can't talk to me like that." When I am scared, frightened, uncomfortable, or just want to leave a situation I have no obligation or responsibility to be in, I leave.
I am a bitch. Call me bitch as often as you like. That's right, do it. Say it. I'll nod and smile. I might even wink.
Why the fascination with the word bitch? Well, it's the same type of reclamation the word "queer" has gone through. For me, hearing that word is hearing everything everyone wants to make bad about me. You say "bitch" and think you are insulting me, but I embrace the reasons why you are saying it. You took time out
of your day to try and belittle me for who I am? You wasted precious
seconds of your life to point out how great mine is? Well, thanks. I
don't know why you bothered, but thanks.
I don't wear makeup and I can't cook worth crap. I don't have to dress "sexy" in order to be valuable. I have a gut. I don't have a thigh gap. I don't have the greatest face (it's asymmetrical, believe it or not), but I wasn't put on this earth for anyone to like my face. I'm not here for you to find me attractive. I'm not here to be submissive, quiet, or dependent on anyone. I am here to serve people, protect people, stand up for people, and stand up for myself.
I'm not angry about being a bitch, but maybe you should consider why I have to stand up for myself so often if you're still confused.
Maybe it's because I'm going to make less money than men who do my same work. Maybe it's because relatives will breathe down my neck wondering when I'll have babies my entire life, like that's something I owe them or the universe. Maybe it's because my uterus is a point of discussion for my government, but testicles aren't a point of discussion for those same folks. Maybe it's because I have a one in five chance of being sexually assaulted in this lifetime. Maybe it's because you will write off my emotions as the fault of my menstrual cycle, which functions as a drop in estrogen. More testosterone? That's right. I'm more like a man when I'm on my period.
Maybe you should take me seriously and stop making excuses since you'd do that for a man. Until then, I'll be embracing "bitch." If you've been hurt by this word, think back. Were you in the right? Were you doing something meaningful with your voice? Then don't fret.
You are a bitch in the best way. You are a powerful woman.
