By Julie Hoag

When I was a teenager, a friend called me a bitch, but he said that was a good thing. He looked me straight in the face and called me a bitch. I dropped my jaw in shock. He said it meant I didn’t put up with crap. His take on bitch took the sting out of him calling me one.

Being in my forties now, I like his reasoning, so I’m redefining bitch. I think back to my teen years, and I think hell yeah, he was damn right. A bitch is someone who doesn’t put up with people’s crap, and that’s the kind of bitch I want to be.

Sorry to all my elders — the grandmas, aunts and uncles — but I am using the b-word here. A lot. I’m taking away its sting, its degradation. I’m giving it a new definition. I’m defining it as “a woman who doesn’t allow others to treat her like crap, a woman who speaks out about wrongs in the world yet offers solutions.”

A bitch is someone who won’t let others waste her time. She’s smart. If it’s not relevant to her, she moves on.

She doesn’t get taken for a ride, at least not for very long, as she fixes that bad ride by getting out. A bitch advocates for herself.

The new bitch doesn’t let others tell her what to do. She’s willing to listen to respectful reasoning before making decisions. She is not irrational, but she grits her teeth with resolve. She weighs all the input and makes her own decision before taking action. But she’s the damn judge.

She fights for what she wants, and she strives to accomplish her concrete goals without taking criticism as an insult. She actually likes criticism because it makes her grow. She lives by the fact that struggling leads to growth.

A mother can be a bitch with self determination to protect her kids. I am the bitch who will shield my kids against any onslaught of harm. I’m a mama bear who will bitch slap danger away from my kids.

A bitch doesn’t let insults stab her heart. She remains stonewalled to that assault. She gives cruel insults the cold shoulder. She holds firm in the belief that she knows herself, not buying into what others insult her with. A bitch is strong and takes a stand for herself and her family, not allowing cruelty to live nearby. A bitch fights.

I’m a bitch. I admit it. I‘m taking a stand; I’m fighting for what I believe in. One bitch-fight I’m in for is my kids and their schools.

I’m helping schools. I will help raise money for my kids’ schools on fundraising committees. I will volunteer at school fundraising events to raise money for educational extras. I won’t allow kids to get lost in the fog of losing a school funding levy without a fight. I will be the bitch who hangs a door hanger to ask for votes to improve schools. I don’t care if you snidely peek at me from behind the curtains as I hang my hope in a flier on your doorknob. I will show up at City Hall to stand in unified support of voters when City Hall tries to put appearance over safety in our school. Ain’t nothing pretty about unsafe. Safety comes first always, and that’s my bitchy statement.

There are also those who define “complaining” as “bitching.” Well, here’s what I think of that.

There are times when complaining is beneficial, like when giving constructive criticism about something. I’m going strong on my mama bitch warpath, and I will complain about sports associations who are unfair in their structures, for example. Hey, they sent me a survey asking for my opinion, so I will willingly give it. I might bitch about what I think needs improving. I won’t be silent if a sport association’s process wastes my time as a parent; I will email the board about it, I will voice it, I will talk with other parents. I will constructively bitch. But I will be a bitch who helps because I believe strongly in volunteerism. I guess that makes me a bitch, too.

Bitch has become a versatile word. The meaning of it has come to depend on the context in which it is used, who is saying it, and to whom they are saying it. Merriam Webster defines “bitch” as a lewd or immoral woman, a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman, a complaint —sometimes used as a generalized term of abuse. I don’t like that definition. Mine is better.

If standing up for myself or my kids makes me a bitch, then I am one. If I stand up to what I see as wrong and someone calls me a bitch for doing so, I will wear it as a badge of honor because I know I am moral, not malicious or spiteful. I’m a diplomat at heart. I am not overbearing, but I am outspoken. I want everyone to get along but work together for common good. I strive for that as I respect people’s right to their own opinions, so long as they reciprocate the same right back to me.

But I will give you my opinion. Because I’m the new bitch.

*****

About the Author

Julie Hoag is a writer, a wife, a mother of three boys, and a mama also to furry babies: two rescue dogs and two guinea pigs. Julie writes on her blog about antics and life with all males in the house (the bathroom never stays guest ready for more than an hour), motherhood, kids, family, faith, vegetarian recipes, and parenting. Her essays/posts can be found on Sammiches and Psych Meds, Huffington Post, Her View From Home, Parent.co, her own blog juliehoagwriter, and soon appearing on Manifest Station. Julie has survived working as SAHM, a pediatric nurse, a scientist, and a veterinary assistant. Follow along on her blog, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest.