ANTI-HEROINES

My Superpower is Looking Like a Huge Bitch

It’s written across my face

Not a photo of the author, but it’s kind of like this. (Image: Photo by cottonbro studio, via Pexels)

As long as I can remember, I’ve looked like a bitch — and not in an empowered, Meredith-Brooks kind of way.

I come off as ‘mean.’

First impressions can be telling, but they’re usually not nuanced. In reality, I’m gentler with people than necessary (and I’m also torn about whether that should always be a thing). But my insta-bitch uniform—basic white girl; average height; bottle-blonde — betrays Karen-ish tendencies from twenty yards off.

You can’t tell from afar that I’m only part bitch.

The details of my face are even more damning. Whether the words that come out of my mouth are savage, neutral — or (*cough*) cloyingly kind — mine is the face of a reality-show antagonist. With its upturned, hooded eyes that often look like they’re glaring, my resting expression is the icy stare of Honor Blackman in the half-second before she judo-flips Bond.

And like Pussy Galore, I’m smart, too.

I don’t care how this presents to the world. Truly. It’s okay to come off as stereotypically bitchy. It’s okay to be bitchy. A woman should let her bitch flag fly as high as she wants to.