As of late I have found myself in the middle of something out of a movie. I am just not sure which movie…
“I know it may look like I was being like a bitch, but that’s only because I was acting like a bitch.” ~ Mean Girls, 2004
Have you ever found yourself dealing with someone so different from yourself that you do not know how to respond or react to them? One of my previous blogs made reference to a pilot for a TV show called “Tattoo Wives” and our weekend trip to Philadelphia. Funny thing is…the drama did not start until after everyone went home. You see, I was pretty quiet that weekend…I didn’t even show up for the big party Saturday night. I decided to stay at the hotel with my friends, the friends that I will actually talk to once I go home. I am not saying that I did not make any friends that weekend because I did, but the parties, the bar scene, the self-promotion isn’t really me. I also prefer to be with my husband in those situations and due to scheduling conflicts he was unable to make it for the weekend.
Then it happened…a comment was posted in the forum on “Fakebook” that was confrontational and if anyone knows me, they know that I am not afraid of confrontation. My career did not start in the tattoo business…it started in the mortgage business. In fact, I am pretty sure Wall Street is to blame for my swift and lethal tongue. I was raised by a single father, aced the GED exam 9 months pregnant, married at 16 years old and I became a mother at 17 years old. I never listened to the naysayers telling me I would not amount to anything because I chose to give birth to my daughter. I have worked very hard on my vocabulary, seeking more knowledge, my ability to enunciate my words, my effectiveness in communicating a point, and most of all, picking my battles.
I will admit I knew the comment wasn’t really intended for me. I made a conscious choice to respond and that was the inception of Tattoo Wives War. Staying true to any warfare, we crossed territories and boundary lines. My “enemy” was ill equipped to deal with me and my verbal assaults. I initially tried reasoning, but was thwarted with profanity and additional troops coming to her aid. What does a girl do then? I unloaded my arsenal and continually prodded her because the responses were too funny for me to stop. I did finally decide to walk away because I pierced her armor…although it appears impenetrable, it is merely a facade. She is still a woman and a mother with feelings.
I can’t stand that holier-than-thou bullshit, and yet, I’m completely infatuated with her. ~ Cruel Intentions, 1999
Fast forward almost 2 months; I was minding my own business on Easter and BOOM! I get notifications that the enemy has popped up again. She decides to threaten me completely out of the blue…I guess she was sitting around the Easter baskets and was thinking of me. REMEMBER, I was silent…minding my own business. What happens? I unload on her again…once again ill equipped, her only responses were vulgar and threats of violence against me. I guess she assumed that I am only book smart and not street smart. Now, something my sweet husband said to me one time. “Honey, you went for the jugular and you should have just gone for the wrists.” Yes dear, instead of getting wrapped up in my own rewards of great comebacks and movie worthy insults, I should have just turned the other cheek.
What was I trying to prove anyway? That I was smarter than her? Wittier? That I could send her into a tirade with one sentence?
Yep, all of the above. I was relishing in my own skills and she made it so easy. Of course, it is much easier for the group to come to the aid of the one being attacked, losing the battle and deciding I was the evil one. Even crazier was that it was insinuated that I’m not “real”. I am about as real as it gets…I say the things other people think but never say. I never said anything that wasn’t fact and I did it without using foul language. I didn’t threaten anyone then tell everyone else that I am all about peace and love. Those coming to her aid paid no attention to the fact that she started it, revisited it and threatened me with physical violence numerous times (including peeing on my face, but I really am not sure if that is violence or fetish porn, sick and distorted either way). I am being called a bully, but unlike bullies, I will take accountability for my bad behavior. I looked at it like warfare…I will comeback with equal or greater force.
Being raised by my father, I learned:
- Not to run my mouth unless I could back it up (I can)
- Never throw the first punch, but if you are prepared to fight, antagonize the hell out of the person so they throw first.
- Violence is never the answer
- Words can be lethal to someone’s self-esteem, use them wisely.
- How to kick ass or get up and shake hands with the one who managed to kick my ass.
So what lesson did I learn and why am I sharing?
That none of this ridiculousness has anything to do with the being a “Tattoo Wife”. This is a great example of how bad behavior begets more bad behavior. How easy it is for us to go revert back to teenage bullshit while trying to juggle family, a business, friendships and a life.
Will I ever tolerate ANYONE speaking to me in the manner I received on that forum? No. Not ever. Am I sorry that I shared my opinion of her personality disorder? Yes, that should be between her and a psychiatrist. Am I sorry that I unleashed my ferocious tongue on her? Yes.
I always try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and treat them with kindness. Do not mistake being quiet with snobbish, rude behavior. I am an observer until I have evaluated the environment I am in. Although I will talk to anyone, I am not the one who walks into a room, introduces myself and begins to chatter, I wait until approached. I love my husband, I love my kids, I love showing people tattoos are merely their insides displayed on their outsides through our business. I enjoy the fact that I am with my husband because I WANT to be, not because I NEED to be. His successes are his and mine are mine. My identity is not wrapped up in the tattoo culture or my husband’s successful career. I am who I am with or without tattoos…they make me no better than anyone else or any worse.
Think about your ink…