A Rant For The Broads

I wish I could laugh in the face of any woman who had insecurities about her relationship prior to Facebook and Blackberries. Because really…what the fuck did you have to worry about? Your man accidentally dialing the wrong number on your rotary phone and then magically falling in love with the woman on the other end? When he left the house, that was it. Sure he could have been doing whatever with whoever but how would you know? Your hairdresser’s sister who moonlighted at the local dinner theatre had to see them rushing out the back door trying to hide their faces and then bring it up the next time all three of you happened to be having a book club meeting. Try literally having a NEWS FEED that details every interaction he has with a living vagina right there in front of you. Or logging on only to discover that he hasn’t logged OUT, giving you full access to hidden photo albums and private inbox conversations, even though you’re the crazy one for snooping in the first place (right??). Ever sent a message on BBM and seen that little ‘R’ just staring back at you, unanswered BUT READ, for what seems like eight hours but is really only forty minutes? Didn’t think so, bitch.

Truth is – you are crazy.

Crazy as shit.

We all are.

The same beautiful spectrum of intricate emotions that make us the nurturing, compassionate and intuitive givers of life plays a secondary role, also making us unstable and irrational time bombs. Yeah….thanks, God.

Men will never understand what this feels like. They will never be able to fathom the savage and ruthless coup that your hormones stage on your common sense and confidence at least once every 28 days. Men do not have the capability to understand this because they don’t ever have to experience it. So don’t let them call you crazy and make you feel bad.

Let me do that.

You’re fucking crazy.

But as we just established – WE ALL ARE. We have biology (among other things…sexism, mass media…I’m looking at you, but that is another post) to thank for this. But you’re not off the hook, bitch. Because you’re an adult now and adults are supposed to have a better understanding of themselves than what you demonstrate by letting these thoughts get the best of you. What I’m saying is…if you take the time, slow down, breathe, and make a conscious note that this insecure, self-loathing, wildly creative yet terribly unhealthy broad that has hijacked your brain is not actually you – I promise, you will feel more powerful than you ever have in your life. Because your emotions are not you. Your actions are.

Your imagination is no substitute for reality. All truth comes to light.

So log out of Facebook.
Put your Blackberry away.
Start a blog and write until your mind has caught up with the rest of your train-wreck self.
And chill. the. fuck. out.

S.

7 comments

  1. Lady have you recently taken up residence in my head because it felt like you had written about my entire life with this post. Holy hell you’re funny….I only wish I could write as well as you my dear. I bow before you!

    A.

  2. this was what i needed now!
    fuck i was trying to open my “bf”‘s facebok account! even though i have no idea what is his password!

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