Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Recovering B*tch

There is no beating around the bush or tip-toeing around the obvious on this one, I used to be a not so nice girl. Actually, some would have characterized me as petty, stuck up, mean, catty and of course bitchy. My constant rebuttal was that those people didn't know the real me, the real me was like the sweet chocolately center of an M&M and the me they were seeing was the hard candy shell that melts in your mouth not in your hand. Any friend I've ever had can tell you that I'm fiercely loyal,  always there when you need me even if it's 3am and I have to be at work in three hours and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you, they could also tell you that if you don't have anything nice to say that I'm the one to come and sit next to...or I used to be.

I could tell you how in the past 10 years or so I've honed my ability to bring a woman to tears with a few words or how I learned to take pleasure in judging others and always finding them wanting, but then I would be either glorifying rude behavior or justifying my nasty ways and I'm not here to do either. Suffice it to say, I was a mean girl because in my limited experience I learned that it's better to attack them before they could attack you and we all know that eventually they will attack you. (Which by the way, does sound as insane to me as it does to you and I was the one thinking it.) I'm not saying this to make you think that all mean girls are really just scared, little girls crying out for love and attention on the inside--which is true about 95% of the time--I'm just making you aware of my thought process in regards to being a carbon copy of Regina George, Courtney Shayne and Kathryn Merteuil with a dash of Sanata Lopez thrown in for hood measure. 

To be completely honest this whole not being mean thing just came to my attention about a week or so ago. I was sitting at a table with a bunch of lady writers talking about things that lady writers talk about, Oxford commas, what magazines are hiring, boys, and I felt myself falling into my usual shit talking only for the first time ever it didn't feel so good. Actually it felt gross, like 70s porn star mustache gross, and I didn't know what to make of it. Then to make it even more eye opening, last weekend while working market in a showroom with other 20something fashion girls I felt my mind go into Snix mode and I instantly judged one of the girls for not being cute and for wearing Tory Burch flats. The second my mind did this, my big girl mind said "Who gives a shit if she isn't cute her soul is just as beautiful as yours is and those shoes don't mean anything because it's not real. So get dat ass to forgiving."(FYI my inner guide is a bad mamajama and is not to be trifled with.) Inner voice noted, I started to take notice of how I felt when I judged people for the crap they put on Facebook or carrying a fake LV bag and it didn't feel so good. I felt repulsed by what I was saying and thinking and finally got what my teacher Gabby B was saying when she spoke about change happening when you want it in her video blog. 

The only thing is, now that gossipping is as appetizing to me as a steak is to a vegan what do I talk about? (Just kidding, not knowing what to say was never a problem for me. I came into this world with my throat chakra wide open lol.)

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