When The Inner Bitch Awakens
CW: Strong Language
My bitch enjoyed wearing a mask during the COVID outbreak so she could hide my face and whisper insults unnoticed. #Protected
You do not want to anger her. She may have forgotten what my husband and kids told me this morning—she was busy ruminating after I read the news—but she can regurgitate that one line that pissed me off twenty-seven years ago. That bitch can hold a grudge like no one you know. #SheRemembers
She can smell a lie a mile off, and while I nod along as your voice rises an octave, as your gaze won’t meet mine and searches for an escape route left and right, and you add too many irrelevant details to your fictional story, she’s put you in that box in my brain—she likes things to be organised—and you’re never getting out. #Liar
Pretend all you want, act nice all you want, but she will dissect your motivation for doing that one nice action you’re so proud of, the one thing you keep telling me and everyone about again and again. She will find out why you did it—she’s really clever that way. That goes into another brain box. #Fake
The thought of slapping your patronising, sexist, racist, arrogant idiot’s face so hard it stretches and bounces like a grotesque cartoon is the only reason she allows me to smile and nod and hum along as I listen to your bullshit while peeking at my watch, and then make my excuses. ‘I have to go, I’m so sorry’. #SorryNotSorry
She gets so fed up with my doormat attitude—No, yes, of course. No, it’s no problem. No, I’m happy to help. No, whatever you need—she screams like a banshee and swears like a sailor. Sailors are soft, actually. #SayNoAndFuckThisShit
My inner bitch is passive aggression incarnated, yes, I know, but she’s also pure instinct and survival. She’s wisdom. She’s like a sarcastic faerie—a magical being keeping me sane and entertained in a society gone mad—and she only appears to a few select, deserving humans. #IBelieveInFaeries
If you don’t listen to yours, I wish you the best of luck. #StaySafe
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