Source: Weheartit.com
I am growing very weary from this scene that keeps happening, as I feel it is something that should be confined to the halls of a high school full of hormonal teenagers. Not that this way of thinking is encouraged for any age groups.
Scene: A bar. Or maybe at work. The bus stop? A Disney movie? I don’t know. I’m losing count of where these conversations take place.
Me: ….So basically, it just didn’t work out because he didn’t have a vagina.
A dear friend: Oh yeah! I mean guys totally, totally suck. Not that I could ever date a girl. Girls suck too.
Me: Really? I think girls are awesome! And what’s that between your legs girl?
ADF: Yeah but like I’m not like other girls I’m really like a guy! All my friends are boys and I eat meat pies and drink beer. Like, really! Girls are so emotional -
Me: We smell better.
ADF: – and then there’s the PMS. Those mood swings! -
Me: We understand each other more.
ADF: And girls gossip so much. And are waaaay too competitive.
Me: You’re offending us both right now.
ADF: I dunno, boys are just cooler and bla bla bla AD NAUSEUM.
This is probably a scene that has repeated itself well before Winona Ryder ate vomit in Heathers. For myself? It started in primary school. I liked a boy. His name was Michael, and combined with his last name, the sound of his full title was so phonetically pleasing it reminded me of liquid chocolate. But alas, Michael liked another girl. Michael liked Kristy. She was pretty, tall, blonde, tanned, athletic, and – the real nail in the coffin for awkward wallflowers everywhere – POPULAR. All the things I wasn’t. I was fairly plain, of average height, had curls I severely detested, and my nickname was Ghost. I was also bad at sports, which in Australian suburbia means you are bad at life.
Heartbroken over my unrequited playground lust, I responded in the most rational way I knew how. I wanted to get at Kristy. I hated hated hated her. During class, whilst feigning a bathroom break, I snuck out to where we stored out school satchels. I stole Kristy’s packet of CC’s. And I ate them.
A stern scolding and a lunch time detention didn’t teach me any lessons. Why wouldn’t I play nice, accept my flaws and see this girl for the awesome human she really was? We could have played jump rope, we could have shared Barbies. Instead, I chose jealousy. And it got me nowhere.
I continued my girl hate right through high school. I’m sure many girls have experienced that sickly, nagging feeling. A pretty girl walks past. She has killer shoes. Maybe she’s got a bangin’ body. You turn to your posse and through gritted teeth you snarl “Skinny bitch“. It might make you feel better briefly. Apparently, humans bond a great deal more over their mutual hatred of something than a shared interest. You like peanut butter? Cool, yeah, me too. But oh my god, don’t you just hate that bitch over in cosmetics. This, of course, relates back to that whole pack mentality, but that’s a whole different blog post.
Girls possess a particular knack for breaking each other. We can wear each other down and destroy each other through purely psychological means. We see a girl. She’s confident, she’s successful. Basically, girl has got it goin’ awwwwn. Something clicks inside of us as we snarl through stifled breath ‘She must be destroyed!’. But where did this attitude come from? When on earth did we decide that awesome-sauce was in such a limited supply that those who have found their inner sparkle must be detested?
We’re all familiar with the tale of Snow White. Queen Grimhilde, Snow White’s evil step-mother, had a nasty dose of girl hate. Poor Queen Grimhilde (for I really do sympathise with those who feel they are severely lacking) didn’t believe that the world was big enough for two beautiful, intelligent and inspiring women.
They could have gotten facials.
They could have shared clothes.
They could have gone to mother daughter outings and gone shopping.
But instead, the Evil Queen chooses to see Snow White as competition.
And where did that get her?
Oh, that’s right. She dies.
Remember what I said about pack mentality? It relates back to that age-old phrase ‘Birds of a feather flock together’. It is true that people, and particularly women, can form strong bonds over a mutual disagreement. Like attracts like. So, by default, shouldn’t extraordinary people attract those of a similar ilk?
I remember hearing on one of Gala Darling’s podcasts that we are the sum of the five people we spend the most time with. Imagine what you life would be like if you were surrounded by inspiring, creative, successful and intelligent women. What if you made friends with that girl? What if you realised that it has nothing to do with her? A lot of hatred stems from our own low self-esteem. And that girl? Maybe she’s looking at you from across the room and admiring what you’ve got.
Don’t be a hater. Try girl-love for a change. It doesn’t mean you have to hug women with your legs, but try dedicating less of your energy to shit feelings of self-hatred and jealousy, and more towards being supportive of your fellow sistahs.
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