The good bitch and the bad bitch. A Grimm's fairy tale?

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I built myself up to the wrath of Medusa. Fuming, my fists pushed into my sides I hissed, “You deliberately ignoring me.”

I was a server in a busy restaurant where every table you get means a tip between 5 and 20 bucks. Every eater equals cash and after a while people are not much more than bank notes.

The hostess had sat the other servers plentifully and I had miserly three tables. I had told her “I am wide open…” twice, but nothing happened.

She turned around, slowly, shining in her hostess power.

You are such a bitch,” she said loud and in front of my customers.

OMG. If I was a bitch she was the ultra bitch. “You must be kidding me.” I stormed back into the kitchen. First she mistreats me then she publicly insults me?

I was up to my ears in my needs and my unhappiness. I hated this job. I did not care about her, the situation or anybody else but the monster of unfairness, which made me wallow in my misery without the guts to step out of the old story.

I was dependent on a hostess.

I had patiently waited for her to give me what in a fair world would be rightfully mine. But then the world wasn’t fair. She had triggered one of my main beliefs and I reacted furiously, feeling the tears of disappointment underneath the anger. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction and cry. No way.

I would revenge myself.

Behind her back I sneaked up to the hostess stand and seated people in my section, a table of five, there, don’t you ever "bitch" me again.

For what ever reason she had ignored my initially friendly requests for customers and favored the other servers. I reacted bitchy by basically giving her seating authority the finger – for a just cause; for me, my rights to make a decent living and feed my kid more than pasta. We never talked about it but over the years we forgave each other, both feeling that we were right but both grown out of petty quarrels into the confidence of "woman".

I had been compiling stories of my bitchiness for the the first chapters of my book  “From Grumpy Bitch to Happy Witch” and cringed. Did I really want to admit publicly to my inner nasty gal?

Lots of women loved the book's initial title and responded with a giggle or laughter of relief accompanied by slight shivers of both awesome and gruesome. Because of their emotional reaction I gave it another shot; had I really been a bitch and if so, would I be brave enough to admit to my angry fits?

What do we love or hate about the bitch?

It’s a female dog first of all but has become a crazy versatile word used to express endearment, envy, excitement, fear, joy, sisterhood, surprise, all achieved by one's enunciation and intonation – and who says it.

When Trump calls women bitches it’s spiteful, when Millennial girls call each other bitches it’s love.

When I bravely owned and ran a construction company as a woman in the 80's I was called a bitch by a few clients. One of them whose porn movies had tanked refused to pay the last bill for his house. I consequently threatened to remove all his doors and windows. I received the meanest letter of my life time dripping with insults and ending in BITCH!!!!  I got the check.

I acted bitchy when I felt cheated, lied at, undermined, for revenge or because I wanted to be the boss. Insults were at the top of the lists; a bad boy, long term boyfriend ignored me for a whole night drinking and chatting with a friend, his back ostensibly aggressive turned towards me. I approached them and without a word banged their heads at each other's.

I deserved their swearing. They deserved my wrath.

5 known categories:

1.    Men demeaning women as bitches when we demand our rights, say NO to the status quo and follow our feelings and dreams

2.    Women calling each other bitches when complimenting fierce traits;  resistance, getting what we want and standing up for who we are

3.    The female bully bitch acting out in competition with other women, or in general fueled by the neediness and jealousy of her low self esteem and respect.

4.    Angry unaware women calling other women bitches because they hate their vigorous independence and guts to be their true selves. 

5.   The victimized woman savoring revenge

Cool, crazy or cold; every bitchy expression though is a flashlight to our truth. She really is our BFF who wants to take us by the hand to show us our soul. Following our feelings through the story of our lives enlightens those corners we didn't want to look at any more.  Even the bully can be redeemed when she reverse engineers her destructive fits and transforms her pain into self-love power.

When we don’t feel “good enough” and repress our anger and disappointment we snap and hiss like snakes when triggered. At the moment we understand and accept our anger the bitch becomes empowerment, a fierce firy force letting us walk and talk our truth.

Empowered we become the lovable bitch, the girl friend who’s our partner in the “crime” of being ourselves.

Our inner bitch fights for us to be seen as the amazing women she knows we are. She wants us to be free and that requires badass energy.

"You're such a bitch."

Yes, I was.

Looking back  with self love instead of condemning judgement at the tantrums of my past I see a warrioress finding her way. I forgave myself and others for the pain I suffered and the pain I caused. I hugged my regrets writing love letters to my “enemies”. I love my bitch for the awareness she so generously provided.

Our bitch is a rebel with the cause of us.

The title “From Grumpy Bitch to Happy Witch” has become a working title; my stories of anger and rebellions show how they burnt of my limitations and got me to my magic, the essence of who I truly am. To step into the deeper, mystical, weird and fantastic me is my next adventure. I fell in love with the drama of my story, the book of REBELLE.

A couple quotes for your bitchy entertainment.

"Forgive and forget? I'm neither Mother Theresa nor do I have Altzheimers."

"Buckle up, buttercup. You just flipped my Bitch switch."

"Go to hell!" "Oh, honey, where do you think I came from?"

"Behind every bad bitch is a sweet girl who got tired of everyone's bullshit."

"Too glam to give a damn."

"Judge me when you're perfect."

"I don't need your approval darling..."


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Nasty Woman was the slogan on many Tees and banners in our 2017 and 2018 Women's Marches. Millions stood up to be in nasty resistance against "mean machos" or in more grown up terms, against the authoritarian male dominance over women since centuries.

Nasty woman is a rebel for the cause of freedom for herself and the world. She is anti Trump, “badass fine”, “fucking awesome”; a savvy modern witch transforming old restrictions into brand new powers.

Nasty Gal is a clothing store; it’s teenybopper fantastic over the top and my inner rebel loves it. I can be lady-like but I am also 16. If short skirts make me “nasty” so be it. That’s my fashion therapy revolution; my swinging of a flag is wearing what I feel.

Bitch is a feminist magazine I support and subscribe to.