I don’t whine, I don’t bitch and I don’t complain. I’m growing horns and a tail, and wearing them proudly.
After all, how many women do you know who can grow a furry appendage on their tush, and feel secure about it?
When I walk down the street with these horns, people point and stare, drivers slam their brakes, accidents happen. This occurs more often now. I used to think it is dangerous to be like this. Now I see that I have simply found myself.
With my new eyes, I see the world differently. It is as if an impish little beast woke up inside me, and there is no way to make it behave properly. True, some people don’t like the new me. But the people who walk into walls, fall off their chairs, and bang their heads tripping over themselves to catch me, are so much more fun to hang out with.
There are others out there, just like me. We are few, but only we can spot each another. When we walk down the street, our eyes lock, and in a split second, there is recognition. There’s a mental greeting that goes like: “Hey there, I see you’re one of us”. A silent nod, sometimes a wink, and we keep walking.
Who the others are might surprise you. Not all are sexy little brunettes with a funky accent like mine. Some are old, some are clumsy, some are flamboyant, and some are foul-smelling bums, enjoying every ray of sunshine, making friends with pigeons on the street.
But we all have the same effect on people. Some hate us with a passion, and claim we have no right to be like this. Others accuse us of having our noses up in the air. Our bums are ungirdled, we are drunk with laughter, enjoying being naughty way too much. Guilty.
The truth is we are totally shameless. In this state, there is nothing to be ashamed of. All those things they taught us are a crime, are all so good. Imagine enjoying every single candy in your bowl. Having so much candy, you can toss it around, and give it away.
I should be ashamed to be like this? You should be ashamed not to.
It recently dawned on me, why witches were once burned at the stake. In the last couple of years, I’ve met lots of people (women mostly) who wished to see me burn. It isn’t easy to see a friend grow horns and a tail, eat life shamelessly, and let all the juice drip down her tiny cleavage. It isn’t easy to live life by the rules, and watch others break every rule in the book, then bask in their glory.
But for little beasts like me, that is what being alive is all about. We take what life offers, the good and the ugly, and we eat it anyway. All of it. We don’t whine, we don’t bitch and we don’t beg anyone for more. We sit back, admire our budding horns in the mirror, and we sprinkle glitter on our tails. For us there is always more.