New Year’s Eve brought out our best party shoes and exuberant togetherness.
It also unleashed one epic hate fest, exploding like fireworks that blazed and burned—toward Mariah Carey.
Attending a fabulous party on that night, and being directed to the TV at the midnight hour to see Times Square on the screen, I marveled at the singer’s beauty and presence. While I’ve never followed Ms. Carey’s career or songs, she was undeniably the epitome of glamour right then—shimmering in a shroud of feathers, with her flawless skin and gigantic infectious smile just lighting up the world!
Immediately however, and before any sound malfunctions of any sort took place, one pretty girl standing next to me remarked, “Yeah, I’m not sure if I like her.”
Had she met the singer, ever?
Such a comment to make! And about an individual who we, as viewers, know so little about, regardless of media gossip and surface or sensationalistic journalism headlines.
Yet that “schadenfreude,” from German words meaning “harm” and “joy,” is such a common theme carried around today by numerous ladies in the name of finding fault with other attractive and interesting women. Yup! They are slyly elating with joy from another gal’s misfortune.
We all know what happened next—that infamous audio mishap and a bumbling stage finish for Mariah.
But all of that, which has plagued others before and will in the future, was followed by a bevy of some of the cruelest damn comments (and from women no less) about how “She should not be wearing that outfit!”
Yes, the litany of nasty talk and insulting barbs about the songstress’ body went on and on.
And as a woman who’s had male best friends my entire life (and still today) and having fielded many glares from gals who felt threatened by my energy, I can say that “growing into” the shoes, skin, and prowess that are my own and am grateful for has taken some time. Forty-six years to be exact.
We’re not supposed to be “sexy” as women, because that means that other women will believe that we are out to steal their husbands or boyfriends or anyone, really. That’s right, the damn UPS man is fair game, or so people think, as we are slut-shamed, ostracized, and pegged as wanting everyone all of the time.
If only they knew!
And while this means that we are in touch with something that vast sects of repressed and stifled women experience real, hurtful shame for, it doesn’t grant us entry into their acceptance. Au contraire.
And if we have ever so much as met a married man, fallen for such promises, and dabbled in that quite hurtful dance? Then that’s it! The pack of pecking and pissy puss hounds are going to sabotage that woman and with everything they’ve got.
Is it fair? Of course not.
But it surely is what it is, and if strong women don’t get a grip mighty quickly about how the other women choose to operate, then they shall never reach their potential and instead play small, and quite defeatingly so.
No, we’re not supposed to be “balls to the wall funny” as women. And we are not really supposed to eat either! Unless it’s a shake, bar, pill, or lolly pop with appetite suppressants in it to “remedy hunger,” which is considered evil.
Similarly, we are surely not supposed to feel good about our bodies or wear sultry clothes, especially if they aren’t a size zero or below.
And we’re not supposed to steal the stage. Ever.
Not with our looks, and most certainly not with something deeper, stronger, and more powerful within that plays to a resonance that some insecure girls do not wish to face and tackle.
We are instead, to go to the bathroom in packs—adjoined at the hip with an entire gaggle. We are to call each other up, or text, and ask what everyone is wearing (God forbid we arrive having had some confidence in what we were doing all on our own) and we are to chime in with our “sisters,” when they gang up and “hate on somebody” because she stood in her truth.
But, here is the flip side, and the most dangerous and diabolical unforeseen damage that we as women thrust upon ourselves when we do choose to be like any of that.
There’s an omen, karma, payback that enters into our lives tenfold as women tenfold when we do not stand up as strong and appreciative women toward other strong and appreciative women.
It may not come back directly and bite us, but it may harm our daughters or others whom we care about. Yes, energy that we showcase is indeed witnessed by the young below us, and the almighty powerful above us, and so what we send out into the world does come back.
Indeed, when it comes to “the closest energy to God” (or whatever “source” you choose to celebrate), we are so tragically negating our truest feminine role when we go “hating” on some other quite interesting women.
We could be learning from them! We could be leaving our old and painful scripts as a result of their shared and contagious enthusiasm!
We could be living instead of just existing (as the well-circulated saying goes) from the mere aura that such fantastic and dynamic ladies graciously teach us, and instead of hoarding such gems of comfort to themselves as they go along.
To spit at them is to spit into the face of God, Spirit, the Earth, the energy, the feminine, the nurturing, the light, the sensuality. That any self-respecting woman would want to block her own soul growth with such wasted behavior, resentment, judgment and jealously just seems preposterous to me.
Yet it takes place. And abundantly so.
The question however is: Are we, as women, going to dance into this new gift of a year with the negative and self-slaying boomerang comprised of all that?
Are we, as women, much stronger, more loving, and better than that?
Author: Laurie-Beth Robbins
Image: Youtube Screenshot
Editor: Catherine Monkman