I'm Afraid of Being a Bitch

Storytime with Kate

We're making reels.

We're posting on the internet.

We're writing scripts.

We're talking hooks and hot takes!

"WHY?!" - you ask.

BECAUSE THE 2025 SELF STUDY PROGRAM IS UPON US!

This will be the first year that the program sells out. Ruby and I have been diligent, we work hard, and lordalMIGHTY we are consistent. *and we'd never lie to you and pretend like starting a full on coaching business and a program has been easy and effortlessly lucrative since the first day*

So we're doing what we need to do more than ever before to tell the people of the internet that we're here and the program is THE thing.

I wouldn't consider you a person of the internet because to me, you're a (much more already real to me) person of the inbox - as Ruby moves more into managing our social presence, I'm so glad that I've been getting to move to being with you more: the people in our inbox. 

Please do me a personal favor and write us a google review (the page is still very much under construction - thank you for being under construction with us all these years!)

ok - now that we've gotten logistics out of the way {{ first_name }} here's my work of this week:

it went like this:

I said, in a very informal way, "what you just said to me was sexist."

then i said, "never fucking ask me that again." also... informal.

he said, "heard. please don't cuss at me."

i said, "that's extremely fair."

he said, "we're all good."

and that's where the spiral entered.

I'm a bitch.

no one can love me.

the next time will be the last time.

I can't believe I said that and was as impacted by the sexist thing that happened.

how am I somebody who preaches kindness and compassion and blah blah blah and still be somebody who cusses at people she loves?!

and then I cried to a friend.

he hugged me and laughed at my tears for me "of all people," he said, thinking I'm a bitch.

and then he thanked me for being the way that I am. he thanked me for being sensitive and consistent. He told me that what he admires about me the most is that he sees me do more value-led action than he does hear me preach about them. He told me that feels fresh to him - because generally it feels the opposite. That people have a LOT to say about how we SHOULD be, but when it comes down to it, their behavior doesn't relflect that.

*ps: that's what Ruby and I mean when we say that the Self Study Program helps you bridge the gap between who you want to be and how you show up... that instead of having to tell everyone how good you are, you actually just get to be good. 

but it doesn't mean perfect.

because I'm good. But I'm not perfect. 

like i said, i cuss at my friends sometimes. and truly that's not who I want to be - I don't WANT to cuss at my friends. 

I also don't want to have sexist interactions with them.

and it makes sense that I felt angry and offended.

and knowing myself and my language... it makes sense that I said, "don't ever fucking ask me that again."

All of this came up for me today as we were scripting out our reel for Acceptance. "Acceptance is the highest form of love." This is a loose quote from bell hook's All About Love.

Because when I dig into this whole "bitch" thing here are the facts: I am one, and I love that. I say the thing that's hard to say using words that impact people. Not everybody likes this. Fine. Not everybody likes women who tell the truth... that's been well documented for eons.

The only people in the whole world who have ever called me a bitch have been men, and any woman who was protecting the feelings of a man.

I love the part of me that's a bitch because she's not here to protect your feelings: she's here to see them, to be with them, to let them out, to process them, to move forward, to do better.

It's not the fact that I am a bitch sometimes that I don't like... because the truth is that I love her. It's this:

There are real consequences for being a bitch in the world though. If you're a bitch to somebody that has power over you, they can hurt you. They can lash out and knock you down a peg. They can fire you, they can physically harm you... you hear me? There are very real consequences to being a bitch.

And because of those consequences, part of me has been scared of another part of me... the part of me that doesn't want to get hurt, censors the part of me that's direct, fire-y, and clear. 

Acceptance says: I am a bitch sometimes and I like that.

Acceptance also says: I have the wisdom to know the difference between when it's safe to talk to someone like that and when it's not. 

Acceptance ALSO says: I don't want to push away people that I love by being an unhinged bitch at them all the time :)

Trust says: my closest relationships are mature and nurturing. I trust myself to not say hurtful things to the people I love and that when I do I will apologize, do what is necessary to reconnect with them, and be more aware of my language with them moving forward.

I love that I'm a bitch who calls out sexist, racist, homophobic, and otherwise dehumanizing shit when I see it.

Even naming myself a bitch makes me feel some kind of way.

I've always believed that women who are perceived as bitches are just rude, impulsive, and recklessly whipping around hurtful language as they see fit - but that's not what I do. 

I didn't say, "you're a fucking idiot" - that's critical of the person and I don't actually think that at all.

I said, "don't ever fucking ask me that again."

And that's using the word "fuck" in exactly the way it is intended: to emphasize a statement with the intention of it being more impactful than it would have been without it. 

and he's grown enough to know that he doesn't respond well when someone cusses at him like that. so he told me.

it's giving: real level-headed maturity and relational safety and I can really get behind that for the rest of my life.

I see you. I love you. You’re Doing Great.
Kate

PS The 2025 Self Study Program is upon us! Let's do this fucking thing!