I used to want everyone to like me. As though my worth could only be defined in the quantity of people that liked me, versus the quality.
I think a lot of caring too much about what people thought stemmed from the messaging society projects to women: we are to be agreeable, modest, "classy," nurturing, appeasing-to-the-eye-but-not-TOO-appeasing, kind no matter what, polite no matter what, batting your eyes demurely no matter what, put together without looking like you spent time to put yourself together. We are to be, as long as everyone is comfortable by our be-ing.
Women are supposed to be everything to everyone unless it's inconvenient for someone.
Then we're called bossy. Aggressive. LOUD-MOUTHED. "Too much." Trashy. Slutty. Crazy. Dramatic. C*nts. Bullies. Bitches.
Loud-mouthed bitch checking in here.
I don't exist to appease those whose comfort level is only maintained when coddled in a patriarchal wool.
This has never been more clear to me than as it has been these past few weeks. Now sure, I've faired criticism at the hands of women as well, not just men. But it's the men whose reactions are rooted in the disbelief that women are capable of more than... well — let's go with an easy one for old time's sake — making a sandwich. The mere shock of it all, the indignation! Men in powerful positions in my community have made foolish, outlandishly false claims against my character — written and verbal; directly and indirectly. There are men in powerful positions that don't like to be held accountable for their actions. Their words. Their behavior.
Perhaps that's why they don't show up when there is a reckoning.
Sometimes raising your voice can be daunting. You may be threatened. You may be retaliated against. But remember that those actions are the actions of someone intimidated; the actions of someone who believes you to be powerful.
And while you never needed confirmation, there's nothing more affirming of your power than the actions committed by those who wish to silence you.