The Myth of Consequences

I found myself drunk and screaming in the middle of the street again. In a moment, I realized: it’s been a while since this happened!

I stepped back a bit and had to ask myself, hey, girl, what’s really going on here? Why, after all this time, are you still doing shit like this?

Ugh. I know. I’m supposed to be too old and too mature to do shit like this anymore, right? I’m supposed to have learned from my mistakes and moved on. I’m supposed to let things go. I’m supposed to be the bigger person. Oh, fuck, I just can’t help myself some times.

I realize that I picked up this bad habit of screaming at people in bars and parties back when I was a young woman. It happened to me on several occasions – you know what I’m talking about here, those old scenes of me, talking to some guy, and then some dude I fucked last month comes up and screams that I’m a slut. Yup. That shit.

I know that I’m supposed to say, oh, it was so horrible, no one should ever have to deal with that, it’s humiliating, blah, blah, blah. But, unfortunately for you and the rest of the world, that’s not how I operate. Mostly, when I see men doing something that I can’t do, I get very upset, because I should be able to do that, too, right? That’s feminism for you.

Yeah, I know it doesn’t look good, and I’m aware that men who yell at women at parties are pieces of shit. But you know what else? They fucking get away with it.

Oh, men get away with the craziest shit. Men get to sexually harass and touch women for years and years and years, and the worst thing that happens to them is they have to take six months’ leave, or they just go work at a different bar. Men protect each other. Men defend each other. Men even manage to rope women into putting their careers and financial well being on the line for them.

I guess I don’t get it. Yes, we’re supposed to be making the world a better place, I know that’s what we’re supposed to be about here. I get it. But I also don’t think I should have to consistently take the L just because of this nebulous, nonexistent thing called the moral high ground. I know it’s supposed to *feel good* to be morally superior to other people, but, you know what? Maybe I’m not a morally superior person. And maybe it also feels good to get away with shit.

So here’s what I’m saying: if they can do it, I’m going to do it, too. I don’t care if it’s wrong or bad for me or makes me looks shitty. If they don’t hold themselves to higher standards, then I think I should be able to operate on the same, criminally low standards, and still not have to deal with consequences.

I learned this behavior from you. I am like this because of you. You did this to me, and now you’re upset that I don’t know any better?

I still deserve love.

So, you can stay here, and you can love me, or you can leave me and let me rot like this. I’m not saying I’m unwilling to change. Fuck – for you, I would do anything. I am even willing to call a truce. In fact, I would prefer a truce to this chaos. But until there’s a truce, I’m not playing nice because I’m not the sucker who stops throwing punches. I didn’t throw the first punch, but I think I deserve to throw the last punch.


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