Undressing ‘Nasty Woman’

I’ve been called a nasty woman, many times.

I mean — not really. But the seething disdain that was contained in that remark “such a nasty woman” has been aimed in my direction, repeatedly.

The day after Donald Trump interrupted Secretary Clinton to snarl that, I heard commentators insisting that it was not a gendered remark, but they are wrong. As a woman who has heard the vibrations of that particular snarl, I know. We know. We’ve heard that song.

I’ve been “called a nasty woman”, many times, because I have come prepared, I have been selected to lead, I have had the best grade or the strongest case, or the best pitch, or project, or the most compelling story, or piece of art. My work or ideas, have been chosen over those of men, who thought they’d be the victor, if they showed up swaggering.

Even more infuriating to these men; I have stood up for myself, I have pointed out facts, I have stayed strong and refused to be bullied. I have not stepped aside when they acted like they deserved to be chosen or rewarded, even though they had not earned it.

I have been strong, and smart and funny, and correct — in front of a class — at a meeting — in public. I have not been intimidated.

There is nothing nastier to a man like Trump, than a woman who doesn’t run, who doesn’t cower, who doesn’t roll over when you puff up, when you think you’re being charming, when you try to frighten them, when you had thought ‘well, come on — I can beat a girl’. A woman who doesn’t know her place, who does not fall in line, or quietly obey, is just so nasty.

I have no plans to stop being this kind of ‘nasty’ — and neither does Hillary Clinton, which is further proof she is an incredible candidate. She had the opportunity to show us that she can stay completely focused, even when an adversary is seething, and snarling insults at her from feet away. She didn’t skip a beat.

She’s just trying to skip a beast.