I earned the cunt label because I stood up for my friend. After a VERY long evening of listening Erin passive aggressively disparage my friend, I had enough and asked her why she was saying such rude things. In a nice way, mind you. That's when all hell broke loose. Apparently, she doesn't like being accountable for her bad behavior. I really didn't want an explanation from her; I knew she was being ugly because she was jealous of my friend...and jealous of our friendship. I came to find out that she is a lonely and bitter person who can't bask in other's happiness. She prefers to wallow in her own self-pity. And that's fine, but do that shit on your own time, girlfriend. Do not try to ring me down to your level of bitterness and hate. And don't call me a cunt!
Wait, the more I think about it, I am a cunt. Especially if what makes me a cunt is that I am a loyal friend, the kind of friend that builds you up rather than tear you down, a friend that will share and absorb your sadness instead of revel in it...if that makes me a cunt then I am the Cuntiest of Cunts!
I learned a long time ago that a friend is someone to be cherished, someone to be protected, someone to be loved. You guard their secrets with your soul, you do not gossip behind their back, and you damn sure don't try to make them feel bad about themselves. For some reason, we as women, have a hard time upholding these laws of friendship. I've found in most cases, women are so brutal to their "friends" due to jealousy, insecurity, or simply because they are so miserable in their own lives that they want to make everyone around them miserable as well. Fuck that. It's time to grow up, girls!
I am hereby reclaiming cunt. No longer will cunt have a derogatory connotation! To solidify this etymological shift, a few friends who were witness to the word exchange and I have formed the Cunt Club.
The purpose of our group is to spend time together celebrating friendship and empowering each other. CUNT POWER! And drink...we do a lot of drinking at our meetings. Who doesn't love a drunk cunt?
As I write this, I realize that I don't need to be calling Erin out after all. I need to thank her for unconsciously growing my friendship with five amazing women, for reiterating "sticks and stones may break my bones", and for reminding me that bitterness and anger are horrible accessories. So thank you, Erin. Although you will never be a cunt, you are a supreme bitch. But I forgive you.