Inner Bitch Strikes Again

This IB Chronicle is from agirlnamedliz, who found her Inner Bitch and took a stand for what she felt was right.

Hey there, just found your blog and found it to be unexpectedly inspiring.

My biggest, most recent Inner Bitch Moment was two years ago… I fell in love with a man that I knew was good. But everyone looked down on him because of his race and demanded that I leave him. I floundered in indecision for about a month. But then, just like you said, the Bitch in me rose up and said, “Screw ‘Em! I’ll do what I want!” I stood up for my man and gave the metaphorical finger to everyone against him. We’ve been married for a year and a half, and loving it.

Thanks, for sharing your story!

Wendy’s Follow-Up

Wendy’s Follow-Up to “So I’m the Bitch?”

 

Later, a co-worker read this and asked me why I would confront people, “especially in a concealed handgun state?” She also disagreed with my assessment that at the very least the Nasty Man was unbearably rude, and at the worst, he was breaking the law. Her position: people can say any nasty thing in public they want and freedom of speech protects them. I assured her every state has a law against profanity and profane language. She found some discussions of obscene bumper stickers and sent those to me, I guess to show my point was wrong.

 

Well, there’s a difference between freedom of expression and cussing people out — what are colloquially called ‘fighting words.’ If somebody has the words “f*ck you, bitch” on their tshirt or bumper sticker or in an article or speech given to a crowd, it’s nasty but it’s protected as freedom of speech. But no law protects one person cussing out another in public.

 

Under Texas Penal Code Title 9, Chapter 42, Section 42.01, a person commits disorderly conduct if he intentionally or knowingly “uses abusive, indecent, profane, or vulgar language in a public place, and the language by its very utterance tends to incite an immediate breach of the peace.”

Now, people will try to claim a nasty bumper sticker (“DON’T LIKE MY DRIVING? CALL 1-800-EAT-SHIT“) is creating a breach of the peace. But again, the First Amendment Right says that a person can be as tacky as they want on their own car. Or another case I saw involved someone saying to a police officer whom they found oppressive, “F*ck you.” In this case, the profanity speaker’s attorney argued successfully that saying “fighting words” to a member of the public sector like a cop can be interpreted as an expression of opinion about the bureaucracies and agencies that cop works for.

So I’m the Bitch?

An Inner Bitch Chronicle by Wendy Wheeler

http://www.wendy-wheeler.com

Yeah, so I’m the Bitch??

About a year and half ago I was checking out at Steinmart when I saw the people exiting and the people coming in sort of collide at the door. Not dramatically; just that awkward dance that often happens at the door of a public place. But the shortish, 60ish man with a gray brushcut and sort of prissy mustache, loudly and sort of off-handedly says as he comes through the door: “F*ck off, bitch.” He huffs over to the men’s clothing.

??What?? Those 8-10 of us by the exit look at each other puzzled. “Did he say what I think he said?” one woman asks. I’m thinking surely it was a joke, that he knew one of the women exiting the door. Though a joke in poor taste because there were Girl Scout preteens at the door selling cookies. And I look out, and they’re also shocked and buzzing because they heard his bad words too. About then, two of the people who’d exited (young girls about 18, one a Steinmart employee) come back in, aghast, and tell the manager that a man had just cursed at them.

I join them and say I’d heard a man say something bad, which words they confirm, and then I wonder aloud if he’d been teasing the pretty, 40-ish woman who’d exited with them. “Did it seem like he knew her and was being silly?” I ask. The girls insist not. They say they had bumped him a little, and they and the older woman had apologized, and then he’d cussed them out. “Which man is it?” the (woman) manager asks, and they start describing him. “I can take you right to him,” I say. “But are you going to say anything?” The manager demurs: “I’m not allowed to.” So then I say that I will. Stuff like this will bother me for days as I wonder about it, can’t believe someone would be that awful in public, suspect I just misheard, etc.

So I go over to the Nasty Man who’s blandly going through a shirt rack. 

Me: Excuse me, I was standing by the door when you came in and thought I saw you get upset.
NM: They pushed me. Trying to come in and they ran right into me.
Me: So were those friends of yours? Were you joking with them?
NM: Friends? I don’t talk to friends like that.
Me: ??! Who talks that way to complete strangers?
NM: What the hell business is it of yours, bitch?!
Me: Everybody heard you. We were all wondering what you could be thinking.
NM: What the hell are you doing getting in my business, bitch?!

He’s saying this very emphatically but blandly. Slowly too, so I can be sure and understand him. I’m looking at him like he’s a tiny, silly man.

Me: You’re very messed up. And the world is noticing.
NM: What the hell do I care, bitch?!

 

Then as I left the store I told the manager “He meant to cuss those people out. And because I asked him about it, he told me I also was a bitch.” She apologized for it happening, but she seemed too timid to do anything. However, a 30ish fit guy, hair cut ex-military, walked up then acting like an assistant manager. “What’s going on?” he asked. The manager was filling him in, and I saw him puff up and eyeball the men’s clothing area. So I have hopes that the story continued after I left…

Thanks, Wendy! That was a great example of taking a stand and not letting some crazy rude guy get away with that kind of behavior. Not many of us would have the courage to approach him, but you did. You set an example for other women, and men too! Proud of ya, girl!

The Bitch’s Creed

When I stand up for myself and my beliefs, they call me a bitch. When I stand up for those I love, they call me a bitch. When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts, or do things my own way, they call me a bitch.

Being a bitch means that I am free to be the wonderful creature that I am, with all my own intricacies, contradictions, quirks and beauty. Being a bitch means I won’t compromise what’s in my heart. It means I live my life MY way.

When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak up against it, I am defined as a bitch. The same thing happens when I take time for myself. Instead of being everyone’s maid, or when I act a little selfish, I am proud to be a bitch!

It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won’t become anyone else’s idea of what they think I “should” be.

I am outspoken, opinionated, and determined. By God, I want what I want, and there is nothing wrong with that!

So try to stomp on me, try to douse my inner flame, try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold within me. You won’t succeed. And if that makes me a bitch, so be it. I embrace the title and am proud to bear it.

 - Author Unknown

Note:  I don’t know who wrote this, and nobody else on the Internet seems to know either, but if and when I do find out, I’ll be happy to make attribution where it rightly belongs.

Bitches Take Charge

So what’s your story? When has your Inner Bitch taken charge of a situation (good or bad) to: 

• negotiate peace or right a wrong?
• make a change or a tough decision?
• take a strong stand on principle?
• stand up for someone who was unable to do it on his/her own?
• set an example for kids?
• move in a new direction?
• prove something to yourself or someone else?
• test your abilities, beliefs, or perceived limitations?
• stop a crime?
• save a life (physically or emotionally)?

What was the situation, how did you handle it, and what was the outcome?

I’ll bet it’s not easy for most of you to come up with answers, and I’ll bet that’s because you don’t want others to think you’re vain or full of yourself. Women do the tough work everyday — some small, some heroic — most of which never gets acknowledged by anybody; and even less often do these women give themselves credit for it. So how about just this once you share your story and feel good about what you did or said, and I’ll give you the praise you deserve. Go ahead. Make a comment here.

Pollyanna’s a Bitch

You read me right. Pollyana was a bitch, in all the best ways. Poor kid got a bad rap. Who cares if she preferred to be glad instead of sad? It worked for her. It helped her survive. That’s what your Inner Bitch does for you. She wakes up, takes charge, comes to her own conclusions, chooses her own destiny. She helps you overcome adversity by making the bad stuff work to your advantage — which, happily, makes you a strong, emotionally intelligent person.

And when did looking at the bright side all the time become a bad thing anyway? What’s the point of wallowing in our misery when the practice only feeds our misery? Just how healthy is it to spend alotta time in that state? I’m not saying we shouldn’t acknowledge the challenges we face or even feel our bad feelings — for a short time. No doubt that helps us work through it, separating truth from distortion, emotion from logic. But then after that, I want my Inner Bitch pull me up by my bootstraps, chalk up the offending event to a life lesson or a cautionary tale for the future, and move the hell beyond it.

Motivational speaker Joel Weldon once remarked that if his plane were grounded, he would be glad about it. Glad? Stuck in an airport, you say? Is the guy nuts? Sure, he said, because if there was something wrong with that plane, he didn’t want to be in the air when they discovered it.

I think the lesson is that we can choose to be pissed off and make sure everybody else in our breathing space is pissed off with us, or we can allow the wisdom of our Inner Bitch to guide us to a better, less stressful place (where we’re less likely to crash and burn). The Inner Bitch likes to sleep, after all, and let our Outer Pollyanna handle the cool and calm (if not mundane) stuff on our own.

Now admit it, you’re glad I brought all this up, aren’t ya?

Freakin’ Hinneys!

I talked about this brand-spankin’-new blog today at an Austin WriterGrrl lunch over at Matt’s El Rancho, and my friend Jennifer reminded me that other female animal names exist but we don’t hear them hurled at us in anger. Can you imagine your guy being so pissed at you that he calls you a “fucking jenny?” Wow, dude, that hurt.

Or how about, “You goddamn doe!” Just doesn’t carry the same weightiness as a vehemently uttered “Bitch!” There’s something in the way bitch rolls off the tongue, sharp and arrogant, punctuated on the rearend with a succinct “ch” that reverberates in your ear canal and sands the tip off your tail bone.

Bi-i-tCH!

It’s much harder to rasp, Lying ewe! or Wicked mare!  Sorry, guy, you’ll get no satisfaction in shrieking, Damn peahen! or Stinking jill!  And forget about takin’ her down with Self-centered hembra!  Or Egotistical lioness!

No, the world is stuck on bitch and on delivering it in venomous wrapping paper. How would it be if everytime we were gifted with this moniker, our entire demeanor changed, we grew a grin, and chirped, Thank you! Aren’t you sweet! If the power to hurt us with this word were diminished by our welcoming of it, those who wield it so caustically would have to resort to using something else.

Of course, then I’d probably have to reclaim another word with a different blog.

Point is, I think we ought to switch things up. Next time I get called a bitch with a negative intention, I’m going to smile and say Thanks! Try it and let me know how the freakin’ hinneys respond.

Bitches Get Stuff Done

When I talk about my Inner Bitch, I’m NOT referring to a screaming banshee who regularly (and arbitrarily) drags herself from six feet under to bitch at, bitch out, or bitch slap anybody who gets in her way. No, the term Inner Bitch, for my purposes, refers to that raw fortitude, wisdom, and courage that lives inside each of us; the self we keep bridled during normal business hours when we’re on auto-pilot; the you that snoozes until called upon to take stock of a tenuous situation, strategize a modus operandi, create something unique, encourage adventure, blaze a new trail, test your beliefs/abilities/limits, defend the homeland, or . . . You get the idea. It’s what spurs you to action and assures that you are the captain of your own destiny.

 

As Tina Fey of SNL fame said, “Bitches get stuff done.”

So, yeah, I’m a nice person. Most of the time, I go with the flow, live and let live, don’t get my panties in a bunch. But once in awhile, my Inner Bitch has to get gritty and take charge of a situation (good or bad), right a wrong, help another child of the universe, make a tough decision, or just get some damn thing off my chest. It’s then that I show the full force of my power as a woman, my Inner Bitch. You don’t want to meet us on a bad day. We do what we have to then. But on a good day, we can be your best friend.

This blog is in gratitude for and service of my Inner Bitch. What does it take to get your Inner Bitch charged up? When have you been grateful that she lives inside you? Let me hear from you.