wisdom

That Bitch Needs A Hug.

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He does. Yes, he! I know what you were thinking… that because I used the term bitch, I must be referring to a she. And now that I’ve said he, I think I know what you might be thinking… and you and/or me are dead wrong! So there.

I am referring to that bitchy person that we all know and, well, know. You know who I’m typing about — the bitch who couldn’t mutter a positive sentiment if one grew from the center of its tongue. The bitch who has two temperatures: cold and freezing. The bitch who makes the Ice Queen, herself, appear warm and inviting — damned near tropical. Yeah. That bitch. Wholly gender-neutral.

But just in case we’re not clear about my use of bitch in this article, I will explain a wee bit further. I don’t mean bitch in the sense of someone who bitches out. Someone who won’t stand up for their self. Or runs away at the slightest risk of confrontation. This isn’t about dat bitch — the hardcore chick Redman shouts out in song. Nah-ah. I am thinking of someone who possesses a level of extraordinary bitchiness. They tend to be gossipy. Hateful. A bully. On some Heathers type of bitchery.

And no worries, like the n-word, it’s totally socially acceptable and politically correct for me to use the word bitch. Because I used to be one, for reals. I can’t afford the bandwidth necessary to give examples of all of the harsh ways I terrorized my world for much of my life, but a pretty good example is that I was fired from my first job as an attorney for accidentally calling my boss a bitch — I swear I didn’t mean (to say) it… (out loud)… Bitch status: certified.

Now that we’ve established exactly what type of bitch we’re talking about, and that it’s okay for me to discuss that bitch, it’s time we discuss why I even brought the bitch up in the first place. Because… that bitch needs a hug.

But you know that already because it’s the title of this piece. But whatever. It’s God’s honest truth. That bitch needs a hug. A deep abiding hug. Because no one has given that bitch a real, authentic hug like… ever. Seriously. And like I said, that used to be me. Desperately in need of someone to come along and really care. To not only say it, but show it.

I once read somewhere that babies who fail to receive touch from their parents — mom especially — are akin to those who fail to receive food. Which is why they cry out when they’re hungry. Or need to be held (or have wet themselves, but that’s another topic for somebody else’s article). Just like that bitch you see on the path of destruction.

Yes. Touch is that serious. And because it’s been so long since this bitch has been touched, (s)he is crying out for something, yet doesn’t know what it is. Now bitches do get hungry, so make sure that they’ve eaten before taking any further steps. But do not, I repeat, do not check to see if they’ve soiled themselves. A bitch won’t do that. And by that, I mean let you check.

Here’s where you do come into play: when you see that bitch being all bitchy, hug that bitch.* Trust me. They may resist, wriggle uncomfortably, maybe even fight you a bit. It’s okay. Hug tighter. Your job here is to hug every last drop of bitch from the person hiding beneath the layers of all that bitchiness.

Note: a person in process of transformation from being a bitch may expel a bit of saltwater from their eyes. This is also okay. Explain to them that those are tears. And that it is okay to shed as many as needed. Hug that bitch right on through them. Even the ugly cry.

With something so simple as a hug, you possess the power to transform that bitch’s life completely. When my you came along and gifted me with that first loving hug, I was well into my thirties. Up until that point, I’d had countless relationships and friendships — none that had been patient or brave enough to get that close.

But my you did. She just up and hugged me one day. And somewhere in her arms, my bitchiness started melting away. Not all at once, silly! It took a couple of years and a lot of work for it all to fall back. But it has.

And these days, I’ve become a you. Giving hugs to bitches in need. Deep, abiding hugs. Sometimes a bit uncomfortable. But now that I am (mostly) free of the bitchiness that kept me from having meaningful interactions with others, I find myself on a mission to hug others. One bitch at a time…

* Disclaimer: The author, Rachel M. Walls, assumes that you know the bitch you are about to hug. She does not assume responsibility for you deciding to hug random street bitches and incurring a beat-down and/or criminal charges.

Ms. Walls encourages responsible bitch-hugging.

 

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RachelMWallsRachel M. Walls is just a soul whose intentions are good, author of All You Need Are Seeds, poet, chef, and all things in-between. You can find her sharing good food, bad words, and other amazing stuff at her website.

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