I am a Nasty Woman and I claim my title and all it’s associated crowns, sceptres, ermine robes and sleep-in’s afforded me.
Yesterday I had to be bold in declaring what my requirements were on some legal paperwork. I’m not in trouble, don’t fret. I had to get over myself feeling awkward about being seen as “not nice” or “selfish” and just put my big girl knickers on and just do it. I had to know my worth and declare it. Now it is for other people to judge but we have a starting place of how I think this should play out.
Being Nasty, although uncomfortable, is kind of liberating. I never was Nasty before. I was somewhat compliant, mostly using Gandhi-eque passive resistance when I didn’t want to do something. Nowadays I have to stand on a table and say that forbidden word……
See, I just used it. It is forbidden to be used boldly within polite female society. We are required to make the message softer, more palatable, more easily received and frou-froued with lacy and frilly language. In meetings we often hear women saying “I don’t know if you have considered this and it is probably not a good fit but…. ” rather than declaring they have a brilliant idea and everyone should get on board for the benefit of all humankind.
It’s pretty out there. It is rebellious. It is daring and bold. It requires no follow up. It is a statement of fact.
I think NO might be my new favourite word. My mum will be pleased. My previously favourite word makes Victorian ladies faint.