Battle of the Bitches

Bitch bella effectWhy do we always think what we think? Oh, I mean with our appearances this time around, not about men and how their cocks gravitate towards our innocent little vaginas. Men can stay backstage as I bring the real issue forward. Girls. We hate each other don’t we. We also secretly admire each other. It’s like the saying with men “You can’t live with them and you can’t live without them.” We need our girlfriends support, it steadies us after one too many bottles of wine. We share secrets that we will take to the grave etc. The only downside to having female friends is no matter what they look like, you will always envy something. Some more drastically than others may I add, some of us are filled with secret jealousy whilst others quietly wish we had this or had that about us. Generally speaking it’s a battle of the bitches out there. You’d be lying if you said you said otherwise, wouldn’t you?

We wake up and see the same face, same body and same everything every morning. After however many years of gracing the earth with your presence it’s going to be a fact that you will tire of the same reflection at times. If you never tire of your attributes then I salute you because you must be one very confident and content individual. You will pick out odd spots, curse your nose and look down at your lady bits and think ‘I bet I’m the only one with a fanny full of ingrown hairs.’ It’s life, we see ourselves in a bizarre vision as we view others in an even more bizarre fashion. We’re never quite sure where we fit in on the scale of “attractive” in the room that’s full of other human beings that were born with two lumps on their chests and a strange flappy baby maker. Some of these curvy creatures seem to have longer hair, some seem to have more shapely legs, many more are blessed with a rack that would make TGI Fridays mouth water and a few are pint sized next to the six foot Claudia Schiffer in the room.

We read (even I have written about being “you”) and it is true that no one can do a better job of being, well, you. Point is sometimes we stick our middle finger up at those posts as we see our idea of perfect strut past and hate her a little bit. No, a lot. Hate her a lot. Her boobs are bigger than mine, how perfect are those eyelashes, I wish I had cellulite free toned legs, why won’t my hair grow that long, I want a designer vagina and crust-free feet. Such a tiring process but we cannot stop ourselves. The self doubt creeping in as you search the room looking to see who is slightly less attractive, making you feel slightly better about yourself. Who are the men looking at? Obviously it’s going to be that girl. The one who looks so good she could be made into a bar of galaxy chocolate special edition. The bitterness rises and you start the downward spiral of feeling consciously less sure about yourself as when you stepped out of the house. It happens. We all do it. Some of us openly admit we feel insecure around this figure of perfection whilst others will jab and poke comments such as “I bet she looks like a dog without make-up” or “ She loves herself anyway.” The outbursts that highlight how they wish they were in fact that girl who loves herself.

It’s an on going epidemic with the ever progressing pressure of wanting to be the next FHM sexiest piece of ass and having teenage boys wank over you in ‘Nuts’ magazine because we all want to be sexy and lusted after. We all want to be beautiful wisps of elegance. Even more so we want to be the girl that people look at and want to be us. Let me enlighten you.

You are that human being with lady lumps and a strange flappy baby maker. So is the girl you compare yourself against. There won’t be one day you head off out to work or to but a tub of Ben and Jerrys without seeing someone else whose DNA is different from your own because that’s the way the seeds work. She woke up and saw the same face, body and bits that she see’s everyday and probably peeks over the shoulders of commuters looking at page 3 and thinks she needs to look more like the poor dear who has clearly been shoved in a bath of ice water beforehand.

For those that clearly admire every inch of themselves right down to their baps and flaps making you feel like the “own brand” version of the womanly sex, smile sweetly and pretend it bothers you not. If that fails stick a sanitary towel (clean) on her back and watch everyone laugh behind her back for a change.

My advice is just be one of the nice girls. Give compliments, accept compliments and realise that every other girl is thinking what you’re thinking.

Copyright © 2014 The Bella Effect

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