To my old school friends, I was always known as the Bitch, and not in a horrible way- just a funny inside label that I was weirdly proud of as it meant I was assertive (borderline aggressive), bossy and defiant. I liked to confront people who’s morals didn’t align with mine and question authority. It was a challenge I’m sure for my mum, my teachers, my friends etc. but I wore that pubescent personality like a badge of honour. It was who I wanted to be so badly, after being the baby of the family and having looked up to my two badass angsty teenage sisters. .
The picture here, was something I distinctly remember drawing and sliding under my sisters door to entertain her and remind her that I loved her. I was about 8. A time before I rebelled from my weird, dorky, love obsessed personality. Don’t ask why it’s a boy sleeping with figures playing in his bed 😬 not even my psych could probably figure that one out. .
Over the past 4 odd years, I’ve softened out, learnt to not judge so quickly and just as everyone has... grown up. My new friends who I’ve met over the past few years would probably not pick me out to be the ‘mean and menacing’ type that I’ve been known as before. My husband surely has no idea what I’m talking about (he laughs every time I mention I was scary once). I guess my lack of self-esteem and my confidence broke that image over time, I’m sure my mental illness didn’t help. But now, I like that people think I’m kind, and nice and I don’t want to be ‘that Bitch’ anymore.
I guess what triggered this thought, is that today I had to speak to my insurer who’s been mucking me about for the past four months and old Katy came out. You know what? She was necessary in the moment and made shit happen. But it just reminded me of my 18 year old self and I was left a bit disconcerted.
I’m proud that I’ve grown and changed, but I guess I am proud I spent years learning to assert myself too.