Apparently caring about my own happiness makes me Heartless, and living by my own standards makes me a Bitch. I tried to conform, really I did, but I could never find the right shade of lipstick for my skin tone. Then one day two women wearing Wonder-Bras and corsets showed up at my door demanding the return of my ovaries. Luckily they were wearing high heeled shoes so they were easy to outrun. It occurred to me that perhaps a perfect size 6 evening gown (and the man said dress would inevitably attract) would not, in fact, bring me eternal happiness. All of a sudden the world fragmented and fell away, leaving a space to be filled with - gasp! - my own ideas about what really mattered. So I set my own priorities and never looked back.

And, more importantly, never apologized.

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