Hard to handle. Direct. Ruthless. Stubborn. Impulsive. Selfish. Strong willed. Bossy. Sassy. Confident. Outspoken. Snobby. Bold. Too-smart-for-your-own-good. Assertive. Uncompromising. Unapologetic.

Did these words cause you to stiffen? Did they make you feel defensive? Would you feel more at ease if I had started with meek, ambivalent, selfless, passive, harmonizing, delicate, reserved? What characteristics would you rather have at your side as a partner? Or what about in an active shooter confrontation? Don’t you want the stronger willed person fighting for you?

I don’t even know how to be anything else.

Now go back and read it again but picture those words being applied to a man (well, maybe not sassy and men are somehow exempt from bossy, too. And nobody ever thinks of “handling” men, only women require handling 🙄). Because the first time you read it in my voice and you knew I was talking about myself. So read it again. In a male, isn’t that what they look for and call them “leadership qualities”? Yeah, I thought so.

Why aren’t all women “difficult women”? I’ve asked myself this ever since I realized I had been branded with this label (around the time I went to work for the Co-op). I don’t mean to imply I dislike the branding, quite the opposite. To me, it just means I have a backbone and I express my (sometimes wildly unpopular) opinion. Like I’m doing right now. And I make no apologies. It came up in discussion among friends the other night that guilt isn’t an emotion that figures into my conscience very often. I didn’t disagree. And I wasn’t offended.

But back to why aren’t all women this way.

I think it’s what you’re raised with. If you’re raised in a home with both parents, and your mother is constantly deferring to your father for every little decision, that would give you the mentality that it’s necessary to depend on a man. But if you’re raised by a single mother, or any strong woman figure, one that has made it just fine for decades and the only time she’s bothered to ask a man anything is when her car is broken down or she needs medical advice. Maybe not even then. (And don’t get your panties in a bunch. Three of my four doctors are women). When that’s who’s raising you, well, you just follow suit. And if you don’t have a strong woman in your life, just go watch Gone With the Wind. Scarlett will teach you.

I simply don’t know how to be any other way. I don’t know HOW to be the type of girl who is so obviously vulnerable. How do you even DO that??? I absolutely refuse to be seen as needy or clingy. I guess it has to do with always earning a paycheck, too. And not having children. Because if you went from being a student to being a housewife, you may not think you could do it on your own. If I had children, I would be a very different person. And that’s why I don’t. I didn’t want saddled with the responsibility.

This brings me around to a controversial subject. Abortion. I’m going to be very clear. There are three instances to me in which abortion should be considered. One, if a girl or woman (of any age) who is not sexually active and therefore is not taking contraceptives is raped. Technically, I suppose, the morning after pill would apply here. And hopefully she would have the wherewithal to take it. Surely doctors suggest it? But she shouldn’t be forced to carry a child for nine months, jeopardizing her health (do I need to pull up statistics of deaths and trauma related to childbirth?? Not to mention the health concerns simply by carrying a child?? It’s incredibly dangerous), constantly fending off questions about the father/ rapist, ultimately raising or adopting out this child that was formed from a crime. <<<See my period, there? Many people believe babies are a gift from God. You’re entitled to that belief. I just wonder if you’d feel the same if it was your body, or your 14 year-old straight-A daughter’s body. Second scenario: a health issue that would seriously endanger the life of either the mother or child. I will also include handicaps into this equation. God bless those people who have special needs children. But lets be honest with ourselves: most people have a hard time caring for a perfectly healthy child to the 18 year mark. With the handicapped ones, you are front seat for the life of that child. Hospital bills are astronomical, and they have a multitude. Testing, specialists, equipment, the list is endless. Maybe the doctors even tell you the child won’t live out of the womb, so you decide to deliver instead of aborting, that way you’re not feeling quite as guilty. But, as we know, doctors are wrong all the time and then the child lives. But it’s not much of a life, hooked up to a dozen machines, unable to draw breath or process nourishment or a hundred thousand other health related issues. These sort of issues could also be due to a woman taking hormone type birth control and still became pregnant. It happens. They tell you to stop once you become pregnant, but you don’t always know in time. And there you are. On the flip side, let’s say the mother has a health issue. Maybe she didn’t know that she even had one until she became pregnant. She’s a diabetic. Or she has a calcium leaching issue. Or a defect in her heart. Her doctors have told her it will likely kill her to give birth. No, she shouldn’t have to put her life on the line. And thirdly, if a woman has been told she cannot get pregnant for one reason or another. Some women have cysts or other reproductive issues. So they’re not “careful” because they don’t have to be. Again, doctors are wrong all the time. And now what. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Your husband just booked a month vacation to Italy and the South of France. You’re making progress on paying down your student loans and you love your fast paced career. You just bought a sweet little sports car and you love meeting your girls for wine once a week. A baby? Sure, babies are cute but you’d never counted on one and instead filled your life with everything else and you’re content. More than content, you’re happy! Maybe it’s selfish, but how about raising a child that clearly feels neglected and burdensome? Kids aren’t stupid. They know when they’re loved and wanted.

Furthermore, men shouldn’t get a say over what we do with our bodies. They’re not in any danger, other than the mother squeezing his hand black and blue during labor. They can quite literally walk away from it once he fertilizes the egg. And all too often, they do just that. Of course, in a perfect world, all this is a moot point. Couples that so dearly wish to conceive could. Couples would talk about whether they are capable of raising a special needs child and have a clear plan in the event that is reality. Women with bodies not suited for childbirth would miraculously not have to worry about it. And everybody else would practice safe sex. But we don’t live in a magical kingdom. You will never convince me late term abortions are okay. You’ve carried it this far, have a c-section and give it up for adoption. You should have made your mind up in the first few months.

Now that I’ve presented you with the scenarios where I would find abortions acceptable, let me define clearly when they are not. There are too many options out there for women to use abortions as a birth control method. There are clinics that offer free exams, condoms, and birth control pills. If you’re responsible enough to have sex, then you’re able to walk your happy ass to the doctor or pharmacist. And if you’re caught in the heat of the moment, the aforementioned morning after pill is much more affordable than raising a child or getting a procedure a few months down the road. I’m forty years old and I’ve never been pregnant a day in my life. And for that, I’m called selfish. But I’ve never been called stupid. I’ve been told I will regret it. Funny thing, I haven’t yet. I’m not one to generally change my mind once it’s made up. And my mind has been made up for a Very Long Time.

My long term readers already know this story, but it’s appropriate for this post, so I’m gonna tell it again. My grandmother, mother, and I were sitting on the front porch stringing and breaking beans. This was years ago, Sometime between 2001-2007. There was talk of a draft. My mom says, “You better hurry up and get married and have a baby, they’re saying it’s liable to be women, too.” My Grandmother looked at her, aghast. “Jody! Do you not know your own daughter at all? She’d rather get shot than have a baby!” And I about fell off the porch laughing because she was right. I don’t know why she thought I’d be the one getting shot, instead of doing the shooting, but either way. I’m reading this book, In Praise of Difficult Women, by Karen Karbo, and it’s probably why I felt led to write about this in the first place. In one of her chapters she’s talking about Martha Gellhorn, author, journalist, war correspondent, and travel writer. But what she’s most known for is being Ernest Hemingway’s third wife. *eye roll* Anyway, the passage reads, “She wasn’t afraid of getting shot, blown up, or crushed amid rubble. This is probably a little mental, but she would rather be afraid than bored.” Me too, me too. I don’t do well in captivity.

Thank God for the women who fought for our right to vote. 100 years ago, they made a lasting impact on women everywhere. It’s hard for me to be sympathetic to anybody who doesn’t practice this right, but most especially women. We’re a minority, in case you’ve forgotten. We, too, are discriminated against. But we’re overlooked because we allow ourselves to be. Not those women. Those were all difficult women. Women who would not shut up and sit down. Good for them.

I’ll end with this: instead of calling a woman beautiful, even if she is, call her sensational. If you want to call me pretty, please call me entertaining in the same breath. Call me cute, but back it up with fearless if you don’t mind. Witty, sharp, articulate, or my most recent favorite, “effervescent”. Because these are qualities you become, not something you’re born with. I wish I could be described as kind, but it’s too late for me to aspire to that. I had to become just a little bit hardened in order not to be crushed. And so now I’m guarded and cautious instead. There’s nothing wrong with being pretty, but there are so many more things that are so much better. And they will serve you long after your looks have faded.