….cause I’m a BITCH


Oh lordy I feel a change a comin’ on!

**A disclaimer to newbies who come across my blog….I am a potty mouth to a fault so you have been fuckin’ forewarned in advance!

While it’s been a good minute since my last post, most of my recent ones have been about my awesome book reviews whereas this blog was originally created as a way for me to stay motivated on my weight loss journey almost a year ago.  Sadly my weight loss hit a brick wall for a few months but I have finally started breaking the damn thing down to commence where I left off, so YAY!  But after some serious thinking and a pissy morning, I feel that it is time to expand my horizons and blog to include all of my personality traits which would include….well…..the best way to put it would be me…well……being a BITCH!

That word was used to describe me quite a bit when I was in my early 20s, and oh yes was there a negative connotation attached to it when it was thrown my way.  I was opinionated and stubborn to the point of annoying other people.  But as I “grew up mentally and emotionally”, the term was less predominate in people’s first thoughts of me and I became a “grown up”.  But let’s get fuckin’ real here.  The only reason I “grew up mentally and emotionally” was to appease everyone else because I was more concerned about their opinion of me rather than my own.  As the years went on I started keeping more and more of my thoughts to myself and not saying things that my younger self would have openly shouted loud and proud.  And in the process of “growing up” I feel like I’ve lost myself.  Bitch was a bad thing to be associated with and let’s be honest ladies, it hurts the feelings and pride a little when someone drops the big B word to describe you.

The sad thing though is that as I look at myself now in my early 30s, I was way happier back when I was labeled this negative “Bitch” word.  Back then I was being myself and not letting everyone else’s opinions of me control how I viewed myself, yet now I see that I’ve done nothing but conform to be what others wished for me to be.  I’ve always found myself putting everyone else before myself when the most important thing should have been me taking care of Stephanie first and foremost.  I just can’t do this shit anymore and I’m tired of keeping my fuckin’ mouth shut.  I’m not out to disrespect anyone and will never deliberately hurt another person’s feelings….well….unless you are purposefully being an asshole to me.  Then I’m not above dropping to your level and making you feel just as shitty as you’ve got me feeling!  I’m done with being someone else’s negative version of a Bitch!  I’m nobody BITCH but my own damn it!  And I’m going to be the best BITCH I can be…a Bold Individual That Cultivates Herself!!

So to start off my ‘….cause I’m a BITCH‘ blog, I thought it would be best for me to rant about a topic that has weighed heavily on my mind the past few months and rejump-started my BITCH mentality back into play.  I’ll still post my normal ARC reviews and weight loss psychoness, but let us right now focus on a topic that we see all the time.  One that we experience multiple times a day in fact.  The ultimate truth that…..

…….it’s the woman’s job to be the man’s Bitch and bow to his will. 

Fuckin’ amazing isn’t it?!  I guess I’ve been blind to this most of my life, which could in fact explain my being single.  But I’m happy to say that my eyes have finally been opened to the reality of the world and my ‘bitch’ place in it.  Not just being a positive Bitch, but someone else’s bitch.  Thank you society for putting all of us with a vagina in our places!!

No this isn’t a bashing everything-with-a-penis blog post, but let’s just get real for a moment and look at how society has mind fucked us females since the beginning.

Growing up, I was brought up to be independent, have confidence, think for myself, and question everything.  I couldn’t have asked for better parents and I know that I was loved even despite by stubborn ways.  But while my parents had always raised me equally to my brother and sister, the older I’ve gotten the more I’ve caught glimpses of how the equality of our raising was somewhat in reality an illusion.  I used to always think it was because my brother was the baby of the family, that that was why he was more apt to get what he wanted, get his side taken most often than not, or his lunch made for him when he would go to work.  Maybe it’s just the middle child syndrome digging it’s claws in but the more I think back, there had to be more to it than just him being the youngest of my specific group of spawnish siblings.

Whether brother/sister, wife/husband, mother/son, father/daughter, whatever the male/female relationship….9 times out of 10, it is the females that are expected to do all the bullshit tasks such as do the dishes, go to the grocrery store, cook the food, wash the clothes, and keep the house clean.  All this while the males sits on their asses enjoying the carefree life around them.  These tasks aren’t typically asked of a female in wonderful ways like, “Oh great and mighty Steppy!  Would you chance being even more awesome then you are on this fine day?  Could you wash all of those bowls, plates, cups, and silverware in that sink over yonder, which I have let pile up over the last week?  I know that you’ve washed all of your dishes after using them, and that I didn’t even think to rinse the food gunk off of the ones that I placed in there, but could you be a dear and continue to promote my laziness?”  Things like washing the fucking dishes are silently expected from females because, yeah…..asking would be a fucking joke given how retarded it sounds being spoken out loud!  And let’s not forget that since women have always done such tasks, they should continue to do these things because that’s just how it’s always been.  Must be nice not having too much responsibility.

Real life experience here….
So I was cooking dinner one night looooong ago and there were dishes in the sink, as there typically always are.  This is one of my biggest pet peeves for those that know me.  Luckily in this case there were only like 2 plates and a few forks and spoons, so my OCD didn’t trip out on me too bad.  But being the reasonable person that I am, thinking to equally divide tasks amongst those living in the house, I looked over at the guy that happened to be in the room and this is the short and sweet conversation that was had: (my words/his words)

“Hey, since I’m cooking could you help out and do the dishes?”
“Uh….no.”
“Uh…..why not?”
“Because I don’t do things like dishes.”

This MF sees me doing the dishes all of the time and I really had to rein in the explosion that was bubbling in the back of my mind.  But the more I thought about what he said the sadder I got.  Someone who I cared about, who I thought cared about me, in the course of about 10 seconds let it be known where he thought my place was.  Doing dishes was beneath him but not below me.  My sister used to always compare me to a stale twinkie growing up because I was always tough on the outside but a total sap on the inside (I’m the weirdo that could find 6 different moments in the movie Die Hard to cry).  So unknowing to this non-dish washing ass, after crawling under a rock and crying about something that they would deem stupid, I put on my big girl panties and didn’t let it show that the shit phased me.  These same types of interactions happen here and there with many of the guys that I know.  Not them purposefully trying to put us females down but even subconsciously it all feels the same to us.  Degrading.  And let’s look at reality….shit will always be shit despite what kind of perfume you slather on it to try and cover up the smell.

This superiority mess just erks my fucking nerves!  But oooooooh I forgot!

Lets look at the situation of some significant other issues that I’ve witnessed.  He has to drive to work and put in a hard 8hrs of work only to face driving home in an hour of traffic.  This is why he is too tired to help out around the house when he gets home.  Awwww you poor baby!  How can I not take pity on you for having done such a manly task of working that day?  Us females wouldn’t have a single idea what it is like to experience the stressfulness of a 9-5 job.  Oh no!  We couldn’t possibly know what it’s like to deal with shitty bosses, work for less pay, or have more responsibility thrown on us because we have to prove our worth in the work place.  Wait….WHAT???  These bitches can have jobs TOO?!???  Now you just lyin’!!

How about when kids are involved?  I’m not blessed yet in this life to have any of my own, which according to my grandmother is obviously a good thing given that “[I’m] just not fit to be a mother.”  But that comment is a topic for another blog post because I’ve got loooooooads to say about that bullshit opinion.  But back to the hypothetical me with children.  When the time comes and I’m lucky enough to have a whole horde of them, heaven help the man who fathered them if he takes the following outlook:  “It is the woman’s place to tend to the children and the home. Not the man’s.”  Guess who would be finding his shit on the lawn when he got home from a loooooong haaaaaard day at work?

So quite a few years back, I had just broken up with this assholeish guy and one of my buddies was cool enough to come over and listen to me sulk as I drowned my sorrow away in McCormick Vodka.  Cheap nasty shit McCormicks is but my buddy friend is one of the most genuinely good without-a-vagina individuals that I know.  While I was drunkenly whining about how everything-with-a-penis was evil and out to break everything-with-a-vagina’s heart, one of these evil beings with a penis decided it would be a good day to stop his truck, get out, and approach my friend and I with the hope of “[speaking] to [us] about the word of God”.  Let me break this down for you…..some random fuckin’ dude wanted to go all ‘Jesus is the way’ on us, not knowing if we were Buddhist, Christian, or whatever, all because we happened to be sitting out on the front porch.  But despite me despising those who push their beliefs on others, especially those you don’t even know, I thought to myself in my drunken stupor, ‘Maybe this is a sign that everything will be alright?  I could use some cheering up and guidance!‘.  But ooooooooh nooooooooo!

Long story short, the only thing I can remember this bastard saying was, “The woman’s place is in the home caring for the children, keeping the house, and tending to her husband’s needs.  The husband’s place is to financially provide for his family.”  What a great fantasy this fucktard was living in!  Any person lucky enough to have a job that can support their significant other and children, that also provides the opportunity for their other-half to not have to work, is a rare thing in today’s economy.  Therefor, you ASSHOLE, your wife will most likely have to have some kind of job to help YOU out with your “duties to your family”.  So regardless of her working her ass off with a job, you are telling me that she is still expected to maintain these “God ordained” tasks of tending to you, the kiddos, and house because of expectations that have been set in place since the beginning of time?  You have got to be fucking kidding me!  I thought all forms of relationships were about compromise and helping each other out in all ways.  But what the fuck do I know, huh?  I’m not married.

And let me say that not every male and female has this outdated mentality of ‘the woman’s place’ set in their thinking, but I would press to say that at least 75% of the people I know do, which is just fucking sad.  And yes, it’s not just men who think this but sadly some women have been conditioned to live this way as well.  Give, give, give, give, give.  Instead of standing up for each other, we throw each other under the bus.

My thoughts upon an event that happened just this morning upon learning that my food from the night before was given to someone who had the funds and ability to go get there own damn food:

“I’m glad I’m the one who worked for that pizza you volunteered to him without even asking if I was planning on eating it.  While you are excited to bow down to every demand and give everything you have the ability to, including things that are not yours to give, you  have in fact not only made yourself a slave to man but made me his bitch in the process as well.”

I just can’t fuckin’ process this shit!

So you have a higher salary than she does.  So what?  Maybe she’s got a degree just as you do but hasn’t gotten the chance in her career to justify getting paid a 6-digit income yet.  It doesn’t mean that she works any less hard than you do.

So your money is what pays for the roof over her head.  Who gives a fuck?  It’s her money that pays for all the mediocre shit like food, toilet paper, and paper plates that YOU need because YOU can’t stand to do the fucking dishes and she’s just too tired of doing them but doesn’t want to disappoint YOU or make YOU angry with her.

For those of you who think that solely supplying shelter gives you some kind of supiriority over others or that you making more money than them means you are less responsible for the daily ‘pointless’ responsibilities of life, the reality is that without your bitches you wouldn’t even know how to pay your own fuckin’ bills, let alone make your own damn doctor’s appointment.  Things an invalid should know how to do.

And while I might be a bitch for speaking out and saying FUCK YOU to those who would try and put me in my place as a “woman”, at least I can stand proudly and know that while my over opinionated-self will be whispered about behind my back, at least I will never be another person’s bitch.  Only my own.

 

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One thought on “….cause I’m a BITCH

  1. Pingback: Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Ménage #1) by Vanessa Vale – Book Review | Steppy D'licious

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