My sis and her parsley bouquet.

You’ve all read the books, the articles and seen the shows {or heard of them}. The ones that say women are our own worse enemy. That women would rule the world if they stopped tearing each other to shreds. I tend to agree with this. My experiences with women are varied and many. I wouldn’t say ALL women are like this. But there is a predisposition towards it.

Mother’s are the worst. Go on, lynch me, but it’s true. From before birth it’s all stats and sizes and sex and how many. Followed by, how was the delivery, how much sleep, when did they crawl, walk, talk, READ! It goes on and on. No wonder you feel out on your own. You are. You forgot how to listen and were too busy formulating your response in your head.

It’s like Mother’s under attack. All. The. Time.

They’re on guard. Wary. Preparing, formulating the responses. If I’ve seen it once I’ve seen it a million times. Especially given the fact most people know Hubby and I are childless, NOT by choice. The telling me how it really is honest moment {My baby cries all night, I’m exhausted and want to curl up in bed and cry}. Followed by the too cheery, but everything is roses cover up {But I’m so blessed and I love every minute of it}.

I think it happens because you’re wary of showing weakness. To other Mother’s and to your friends. Because show your weakness to another woman, and one day, when you least expect it she might just stab you in the heart with it. Isn’t that right? Haven’t we all had that happen to us?

A friend was talking about the school yard bullying. The mean comments, the catty get backs, the gossip. I sat and listened, mouth open wide. What shocked me most was that she wasn’t talking about her 11 year old daughters class. Though there was plenty of the same going on. She was talking about the mothers, as they waited by the gate. Are you surprised that your girls are learning to alienate, bully and bitch when that’s all they see from you? I’m not.

All the other ladies aren’t getting off scott free either.

My sister went to the local {country} Music Muster. Kind of a big deal around here. Over 40,000 people descend for a week long music festival. My sister was there with some girlfriends to dance, have a few drinks and generally party. They’d secured tickets for volunteering during the set up phase. Hair and make up done, jeans and slim fit flannie on, off she went.

Throughout the entire night her and her friends were subjected to abuse, taunts and nasty approaches from other women in the room. I can only assume they were threatened or jealous of my vibrant, beautiful and loads of fun sister {and friends}. But really, is that an excuse? Was she really taking anything away from THEIR night by being who she is? Maybe she was. But that wasn’t HER fault. It’s down to them. And their insecurities.Oh. And did I tell you. I think THIS is the very problem that so many people have been alluding to with the whole blogging is changing and it’s not fun any more thing. Cliques {clicks?}, groups and snarkiness. Jealousy, drama and pulling people down. Sounds familiar? It is.

This post has been brewing for a while. It is, apparently, the week of letting it all out here. Let me tell you, as someone who heart burns with jealousy and competition sometimes. It’s not worth it. It makes no difference to anything and leaves you alone and bitter. This programming of girls is wrong and it needs to stop. If you want power for our generation and the next to stand up, to Speak Out {as the week goes}.

Show them their own power.

Not from one up’ing or pushing someone else down. But from kindness, generosity and being a good friend and listener. From being smart, talented and working hard at things that matter to you. Be the change you want to see in the world. So the wise man said. Stop competing with your friends. Go and get what you want, don’t be jealous of those that have it. And for goodness sake, stop saying stuff behind the backs of people that you wouldn’t, in a million years say to their face.

Enough is enough. Women. Time to quit your shit.

{this post proudly bought to you by a had it up to my eyeballs of the worst of woman kind, but inspired by the best of it.}

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