A rose from my front yard that blossomed in late September.
I woke up this morning and came to the conclusion that alongside the yoke-like phlegm I’ve been coughing up for three-plus weeks that I’ve also hacked up some major baggage.
I woke up thinking: I want to find my inner bitch.
Which is so unlike me, as I don’t even like to say the word Bitch, unless teasing my dog, and to type bitch (bitch, bitch, bitch), well that’s just plain out of character!
Much of the thoughts of finding my inner bitch erupted from my dreams last night, the repetitive type of nightmare where I face a parental figure or face a professor and act cowardly and then rage. Seems my inner bitch has found her way into my dream state. Still no sight of her out in this world, though.
Now my mother would likely claim that my inner bitch came out in the fall of 1981, but I would have to disagree. True, at the time I was a very angry teenager, but I raged because I’d held so much inside for so long that with the help of hormones I just plain exploded…and screamed, and threatened to runaway from home, and barricaded myself in my room….
Fact is, up to that point in my years, and after that point too, I hadn’t really been dealt the best childhood experience; and I had a right (as I see it) and need (to not implode) to be a bit of a bitch. Plus, my teen-bitchiness was so very short-lived—doused out by guilt-laden lectures, scolding, and insults, and the move to the east coast. I was in the bitch zone three months, tops.
That is honestly about the only time Bitchy Me ever surfaced. That and when my boyfriend of several years had a pregnant teenage mistress that showed up at his apartment door. But I felt guilty after I screamed in shock and hit him with my open hand in the chest. So not sure if that counts.
And I had another bitchy moment, I suppose, when a best friend called me (again) in the early hours of the morning to tell me her much-older-than-her, drunkard and big time loser of a boyfriend had once again abandoned her. I’d had enough, and told her to get some help, and that I could no longer support her in regards to her relationship with said jerk. I was kind of mean, I guess. We were never close again, after that. Boundary setting verses Bitch—seems to be a fine line.
Sometimes I think I might be lacking the bitch gene. Sure, certainly at moments I look like a bitch, but that’s generally my lack of recognizing and controlling my facial expressions. I could be thinking intently about dark chocolate, and my intense facial expression could be mistaken for bitch. It’s just the way my face is made; it contorts and twists so that most onlookers haven’t a clue to what I’m truly feeling or thinking. That’s why pasted-on-smile helps, often, when dealing with outsiders.
You can ask my husband. I’m not a bitch. I really am not. Sure, I have a dry and sometimes biting wit (blame it on my intelligence) and sure I get frustrated like all human folk, but my degree of anger and expression of my anger is liken to the temperament of a well nurtured and cuddled kitten.
My anger zone generally consists of rolling of the eyes, a sigh, and raising my voice slightly; and if you’re my husband, a mini-lecture about my need to express my emotions and be accepted as a human being with feelings. (That’s what happens when you marry a man like Spock from Star Trek.)
When my anger climaxes, I retire to my bedroom to mope, fret, and catastrophize the situation. Generally then, I am forlorn, curse my circumstance, and want to expel everyone from my life so I can die in isolation. Where anger goes, who knows. I seem to skip over that square in the hopscotch of emotions. I have no trouble leaping into the hopscotch square of self-pity and depression, but anger, it’s like the chalk in the square has been erased, and anger just doesn’t exist. Even if I purposely jump two-footed into the anger box and try to feel rage, it’s very much lacking in luster and flame, kind of a dull spark of nothing.
I gather, part of this anger repression comes from the times I was often guilted out of my emotions.
“Be thankful for what you have.” “I do my best.” “Things could always be worse.” “Count your blessings.” We’re all common phrases in my youth, bombarding me each and every time I showed the slightest indication of sadness or upset. I grew up believing that my feelings were wrong and out of proportion. That I was over reacting and ungrateful.
Missing from my world were words like: “I’m sorry.” “It will be okay.” “That must be so tough and hard on you.” “I can’t imagine.” “Let me hold you.” “I am here for you.” Missing so much, that as I grew older and heard those loving statements, I didn’t know what to feel, and as a result would start to cry uncontrollably.
If I dared to feel anger, I was to blame for not being appreciative, understanding, patient, or forgiving.
So much of my energy was spent stuffing emotions to appease. I learned to evaluate others’ expressions and adapt my own body language to survive. If I could figure out what others wanted, I could feasibly avoid deflating remarks. If I acted happy and carefree, I was more likely to be praised. My happy expressions were seen and acknowledged; and whether genuinely expressing myself or not, when I appeared happy, at least I wasn’t invisible or wrong.
Anger, I gather, if anger ever existed, got lost in the shuffle of pretending. I was the good girl. The sweet girl. The kind, the giving, the loving. I was unbreakable, brave, and dependable. I was everything I could be to make another happy.
Interestingly, this year, during the month of May, I had a major breakthrough physically, energetically, emotionally, and spiritually. Starting in the late spring, I felt transported back in time to around the age of thirteen, when all feelings of love-sick, passion, creation, freedom, strong will, and justice were erupting.
Strangely enough, I first had bronchitis (due to living in a damp ocean town with mold and in a house with smokers) when I was a teenager and haven’t had bronchitis since. Until now. I seem to be revisiting my later youth on multiple levels, including visiting bronchitis.
Lately, I feel as if there is this sticky residue inside of me.
It’s been said 2012 is a year of purging out the “negative” emotions and coming to terms with all the garbage inside (I paraphrase with much liberty.)
Apparently, my bronchitis is symbolic of all the residue still located at my heart and throat center, where my ability to love and express my true self is located. I’m purging…going on week four now of purging (bronchitis). And still stuff is coming up.
Today I am acknowledging some current realities. I am delving into the residue and coughing up the phlegm of the past. I am rediscovering that there are people in my life that I simply don’t like. As hard as I try, I don’t like them. I don’t like their behavior, their choices, their self-focus, their belief that their view is the right view, their tendency to think the world revolves around them, their ability to blame others, the anger they harvest and spew, their arrogance and their ignorance, and especially their lack of self-awareness and self-accountability.
I’m wondering if it’s not time to let my inner bitch blossom, if only for a bit, long enough to mop up the remains, to stand up and shout: Enough! Enough already!
Everyday Asperger's 
Stroke her every now and then or she’ll come out like a bad fart when you least expect it! 😉
So glad I know who you are! Makes it really easy to laugh at your comment! hehehehe. 🙂 love you. 🙂
Hello my lovely bitchy Basna, I find it so hard to see you as a bitch I’m sorry but I know your heart and I know how deeply you love. But I also see that you need to not allow feelings to stay inside stagnating and eating away at you. So let the bitch out if that’s what you need.
I love what you write, I’m so proud of every step you take. I know that (bitch, bitch, bitch) would have been so hard for you to write….can you see me standing up and clapping you here.
So my lovely friend I read to the end of your post and I stand by what I said to you earlier today.
Do you know what? I LOVE YOU!!! Even when you are being a bitch.
I don’t care…you can rant and rave all you like, I STILL LOVE YOU!!!
Smiling at you, keep being you. Me. Hugssss. 🙂
You are such a nurturer and lover of mankind and womankind. I love you so very much. Thanks for your perfect words. xoxoxo to you banana bread.
Thank you for sharing all of this. It helps to know that there are others that grew up repressed because family members could not handle the intensity of the emotions we showed. I knew how I felt and how much was bottled up because YOU are not to show anger, hurt, sadness, ect. I made sure that I taught my daughters it was ok to feel these emotions and tell someone how they felt. Don’t hide them, and most of all don’t swallow your tears! Little did I know I was teaching my Aspie daughter good things and to embrace life and don’t let anyone make her feel less of a person. I do know the reaching the “bitch” inside. For the most part I see the Aspie women as highly sensitive and caring. To be a bitch goes against the grain. I was a receiving clerk at a store, I get a phone call from a Co-receiver congratulating me that I am a real receiver now….I asked why? He said he had a driver come through and told him what a bitch I was and refused to bend rules for him….this made me sad. I don’t want to be thought of as a bitch….so I asked to be moved to a different department…darn…rambling again…:-0
Thank you for your comment and sharing about your life experience. It sure helps to hear from others that understand. I agree about Aspie women perhaps being bitch-less, as though we lack the ability to be that way and experience those emotions. Yet, I’d like to get in touch with my warrior that defends me and stands her ground regardless of what others’ expect and want. That’s terrible about the job circumstance. I’m glad you switched departments. Best to you 🙂
Gosh Sam, it’s like our soul is on the same level. When i read the title of your blog “My Inner Bitch” , i was very excited, because i definitely need this kind of inner talk. It’s like how people will say they want to quit smoking, yet keep going, and say the same thing over and over. But do people notice what they think about when they want to smoke another cigarette, not that i know of. Ever since i started to do some self-reflection, so much clarity comes from letting that inner twin surface in writing, vocalizing on my own time, or ask myself what really makes me happy and if i do not feel good about myself, i need to re-evaluate how i perceive my relationships and how much i let others do the same. It’s so healing, and as you said, 2012 is really challenging the ego in our lives, the things that trigger past experiences, to give us a wake up call for all the decisions we have made leading up to this moment right now. It’s really nice to have an inner bitch, because even if we don’t want to admit it, we really need it with us, so that people don’t take advantage of our heart. I really appreciate what you write in your posts because it is raw and honest, and there is no bull shatting around, which is something i really admire about you. It’s like, there is no need to hide your true self, when others, deep down, feel a lot of the things you do, think a lot of the things you do, but are not as brave and courageous of you to find a way to communicate it. I am honored to be your friend Soul sister Sam. Love you always,
~Maya
Much clarity comes from letting that inner twin surface in writing……I love that you wrote that. So very true! And yes, challenging the ego that has great masks and hides behind being overly nice at times is essential. Thank you again for your words. You do have a gift for finding the light in others and shining it right back at them. I enjoy seeing me through your eyes and view. Thank you for the gift of you and of your words. You are gifted in expression and uplifting others. Honored to know you and always a pleasure to hear from you. Haven’t we had splendid weather….as I’m stuck on the couch…lol. Much love to you soul sissy. 🙂
I stand in awe of you. Truly. Mouth agape through this post. I’m pretty sure my middle name begins with the b-word. I cannot imagine stuffing anger for too long- although we all have to repress it from time to time. I would (and have) erupted like Mt. St. Helens on many, many occasions. This runs in my family on my dads side. He is totally Aspergers, did I ever tell you? But he and I both have a short fuse. Probably explains the career choice. If you ever want help finding your inner “lady B”, I’m an expert. 😉 if I can’t bring her out, no one can! xoxo
PS- boo bronchitis!! Boo!!!
I stand in awe that you get to explode!!!! What’s that like? How liberating and freeing! Yes, I think I do need help finding my inner lady B….much more than guitar lessons….lol. Bring it on! Much love to you in all your B-ness…hehehe Thanks for the awesome support, as always. 🙂 Sam
Oh Sam — I relate I relate I relate – I know I always say it – but I do… more to talk about on the beach picnic — if this bronchitis is what you needed to purge then so be it. I do hope you are feeling better dear one — sorry I am behind on my blogs and missed your post yesterday — will get there soon… Keep nurturing your inner B – and I will love you forever more no matter what! xo R
No kidding? hehehehe Yep, I can see that. You are a super sweetie….super sweeties don’t explode very often….we’re missing the explosive powder. You know I didn’t raise my voice at my children for five years! LOL. When I did, they were traumatized. lol. I’ll love you, too if you turn B. Maybe you need to release some inner B?. Hey, the pain we deal with alone is enough for us both to justify screaming from atop a mountain….and swearing, too. Not that we should have to justify. 🙂 Huge hugs sea sis. Look forward to that picnic.
feeling better ?? I hope so sea sister sweetie! Just thinking of you ~ xxoo hoping the new home school thing is going well too and your viral monster has checked out permanently! xo
Thank you so very much. I am starting to have energy and happy thoughts again. Hope you are well. Thank you very much for checking in on me. xoxoxox Sea Sis
You know Sam it is very sad when a woman is unable to find and pamper her inner bitch….i mean comeon you can if you really try…look at me i carry my inner bitch on my forehead…come out you hiding inside Sam and lets hear what you have to say cos i am so sure you and me will be best friends 😆
I know, isn’t it? sad, sad, sad…….I have to try harder! Calling the bitch in me……where are you. Would love to go swing on the swings with your inner-B. How are you feeling. Hope you are well. Hugs 🙂
Not bitchy. Sounds pretty normal.
BB – Scott
Nope….I’m not bitchy….but sure would like to give it a whirl…. 🙂 Thanks for the visit.
Right on Sister! You advocate for yourself. I think many of us women get caught up in trying to please everyone but ourselves and this leads to secret inner resentments that can just pile up inside and make you sick.
You are an intense person which is good but it is hard on you. You need to give yourself a break. It’s not being bitchy, It is advocating for yourself and it doesn’t take anything away from your devotion or love for your family.
I really don’t think you could be really bitchy anyway, You are too sweet of a person, Sam. 🙂
Thank you S.Indigo 🙂 Intense….one of my good friends teases me about that…but that’s why she likes me. You are very kind and I feel likewise about you.
Spend ten minutes with me. I seem to have a way of bringing out the inner bitch – even when the lady in question doesn’t want the inner bitch brought out! 😦
Oh, so sorry. I’d probably psycho-analyze you and try to help you…..aka “fix.” lol Thanks for reading and the comment.
I could stand a little fixing! 🙂
A natural story-teller. Great piece 🙂
Well thank you, kindly 🙂