Nicole
I'm a Heartless Bitch because...
· I don't pick fights. I discard things that are not worth my energy,
but I have enough self-respect to stand up for myself and defend issues
that I'm passionate about. When I'm wrong, I'm humble enough to
recognize it and apologize.
· I won't have sex unless I'm stimulated mentally and emotionally. I
don't support men or women who mistake being slutty for empowerment.
· I have no respect for anyone who uses their gender, religion or
culture as a defense or justification for their actions and lifestyle.
Clearly these people are too weak/lazy/gullible to get an identity, and
that's what sickens me about them.
· I believe what happened in the past is exactly that- the past. No one
is entitled to a badge of heroism for dealing with life. True survivors
take the negative, tune it into positive and get the fuck on with it
without boasting or expecting special consideration.
· When someone I care about needs to vent, I'm here, on the condition
they'll acknowledge and consider my feedback, honesty, opinions and
suggestions. If they have no intention of doing so and are using me just
to run their mouth, I'm more than happy to refer them to a brick wall.
· Ugh! I hate cute! I think cute, delicate, ditsy girls are a joke to
humanity.
· I believe that anyone (including myself) who persists in a
relationship or situation where they're willing to sacrifice their
dignity is deserving of the consequence.
· I dress and speak how I want to, depending on my mood; not to impress
others or to try to embody how pop culture implies I should look. My
mind is my driving force, not my appearance.
· To people's dismay. I'm happy as I am. I don't dream of the day Prince
Valiant will whisk me into his arms and ride off into the sunset with me
so I can abandon my dreams, goals and all I've worked for to live
unhappily ever after.
How I became a HB:
My high school English teacher did a unit on gender construction,
although it wasn't part of the education curriculum. She gave us all a
blank piece of paper, and together the class thought up 20 things that
we thought make a man a man and 20 things that make a woman a woman.
(Not including physicality)
She told us to tick the things that applied to us in both lists. By the
end of it, everyone had ticks all over the page. Many of the things we
agreed make a man a man, I had ticked, and many of the things that we
agreed make a woman a woman I hadn't ticked.
She ranted and raved colourfully with hands flying, like a mad woman in
an attic, ripping out fairytales, poems, song lyrics, movies, books,
cards, toys, you name it. She passionately rambled about how we've been
spoon-fed gender myths since childhood; smashing every single stereotype
to pieces; proving gender does not define or limit us.
It was a lesson far more valuable than grammar and punctuation could
ever be. A subject that should be as compulsory in school education, as
maths and English is. It was a life-changing lesson that signed sealed
and delivered my bitch status for life.
After that, I picked up every issue of teen and fashion magazines I
owned, slammed them contentedly in the bin, dusted my hands and walked
away vowing never again to let myself fall for the standards set for
lady-like behavior- and I haven't!
Best regards.
Nicole
Yes! I want to read more from Real Life Heartless Bitches
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