Whatever happened to a woman’s right to react passionately? Why are we all of a sudden calculating our responses and controlling how we feel? When I think of a passionate woman, I think Penelope Cruz in Vicki, Christina Barcelona with her wild hair and cigarettes…brandishing a gun at her crossed lover, ready to kill for the love lost. I do not see a calm woman with her wits about her, shoving her emotions deep down inside and counting to ten. Give me Ginger Spice and Girl Power; give me kicking, screaming and collapsing into a pile of emotional exhaustion. I’m tired of holding it in and apologizing for feeling, I’m not a sociopath and I have passion. I recently had my heart ripped apart in train wreck style - fitting for a dramatic conflict-resolution scene in a sad/romantic movie. Given the respect, energy and compassion I had given to this person, his exit strategy was not only incredibly unexpected, but so void of anything good or respectful I had no other choice but to slap the shit out of him. At the time I felt bad because I had reacted with physical violence, but after reassessing the situation (It was with my right hand and only had about 100 pounds behind it). and getting such a positive reaction from my girlfriends, I realize I reacted perfectly. I did what every girl who has ever been crushed by someone she loved or cared about wanted to do. Even though his pain only lasted seconds or minutes, for that amount of time he was able to feel a fraction of what he was putting me through and I was able to release some of the bad energy he had given me. He may tell everyone I acted dramatically and I would have to agree because I’d rather be Penelope painting a masterpiece while in my underwear than a muted girl trying to keep her cool.
Listening to:
Your Ex-Lover is Dead by Stars
She’s Got You High by Mumm-Ra
Drop the World by Lil Wayne
