About Nude Not Naked

Okay. This is how it all happened. I am not one who pretends to be perfect. I do not want to be holy. As a matter of fact, I now subscribe to Mae West’s notion that “good girls go to heaven and bad girls go everywhere”. I am not even attempting to justify what I have done in my past.

Let’s just agree that I have enough stories to write and share for a long, long time. These stories are not derived from episodes of Sex and the City or Desperate Housewives. These are tales that are commonly shared by young women living a fast paced lifestyle – our happiness, shopping trips, loneliness and the ultimate fantasy of having everything. The career, the looks, the material things and the family to complete the whole package.

I am not ashamed of my past or the antics I have gotten myself into. It has made me a whole lot wiser and realistic about the world and the various people walking on it. Okay, so there were some things that I realised were really bad mistakes but I guess, even a really bad mistake can turn into a learning experience. What does not break me will only make me stronger.

One of the constant things that I face is the Holy Miss Bitch. I might be talking about you, so you might want to leave for another blog right this moment. For the rest of you who wish to know more of the Holy Miss Bitch, please proceed with caution to the next paragraph.

Everyone has a Holy Miss Bitch in their lives. She is the mother of all Miss Bitches. Not only does she make your life a living hell, she does this with a smile and superficial good virtues. She is Miss Holy Two Shoes on a bad, PMS day, with the exception her PMS lasts for eternity.

I did not know I had a Holy Miss Bitch in my life. I did not even know her name when PY mentioned her some months ago. “Do you know my friend, Kay?” PY said over some super luxurious breakfast one morning.

“Kay said she is your friend,” PY said. I ran the name through my list of friends. Nope, I do not know any Kay-s. I am sure of it but PY insisted that I did because Kay said that she was my friend. I gave up after some minutes and asked PY to relate the story of Kay to jog my memory a little.

“Otto is very pretty, that is true. But she goes out with many boys and that is not good,” was Kay’s remark to PY. PY felt disturbed on my behalf and prodded Kay for more details. My blood boiled as PY related the conversation she had with Kay. So spilled the story of Kay and her friend, a supposedly man, let’s call him Mr. Tan. He claimed to be the same age as I, from a neighbouring high school (I was stuck in a French mission school).

Here is an interesting fact to note. These two people, Kay and Mr. Tan, claimed that they were my friends. Fact was, I did not know who they were when PY told me the story. Since then, I was introduced to Kay but still do not know who the fuck is this Mr.-high-school-friend-Tan.

Let us start with Holy Miss Bitch Number One: Kay. Here is my problem with Holy Miss Bitch Number One, Kay. Not a word coming out from her mouth was bad. The contents of her conversation are not as important as her intonation and I guess, intention. “But she goes out with many boys,” Kay says, stressing on the words “many boys”.

I was wondering why she was being such a prissy bitch and soon found out. Holy Miss Bitch Number One turns 37 years old this year. She is not married. She is not even dating anyone – man or woman. In my more angry moments, I imagined her as a frigid old aunty, playing with a cucumber from her mother’s refrigerator.

I am glad that she wishes to keep her “chastity” and “good name”. That is always admirable. It is not a decision I would undertake but I most certainly respect people who are different from me. But I abhor women who are prissy, have no life, sitting at home in their night market t-shirt and waiting for their prince charming to fall from the sky, right in front of their door steps, judging me for having an active social life.

So what if I do go out for drinks and parties with many men? So what if I do not want to commit myself in a relationship before I am ready? So what? I want to commit when I am ready to, not because of society’s pressure. And why should I commit myself when I am still young, am able to afford to socialise more and meet more suitors? Why should I choose to settle down with a man when I am able to meet more men from a wider pool?

I believe that I am a good catch and I deserve a good catch too. I do not believe in shopping in a day for something that is supposed to last a lifetime. A date is a date but a permanent partner is for a lifetime, so I want to choose wisely. And before my decision, I am just going to paint the town in a deeper shade of purple (my all time favourite colour that describes my mood).

These are the days and times for women. We have more choices and freedom of choices than our grandmothers and mothers. We no longer need a man to protect and provide for our needs. We want a man for companionship and support. Men, no longer just material providers, now morphed to be a source of emotional comfort.

Life has taught me that the first man is not always the best man. As a matter of fact, it is not even the second of the third man. I am not going to make a lifetime commitment to someone that I just met, or have the relationship supervised by my parents (or worse, his parents). The worse case scenario is a relationship that is so clinical, dictated by the protocols of many other people (be it a church, relatives or parents).

I am glad to know that Holy Miss Bitch is a 37 year old single woman, who cannot even secure a fuck buddy, what more a sensible man as a life partner. It explains why she has that certain tone when she talks about me. You see, I am not going to be 37 year old single woman, living with my parents. Even if I am single at 37, I will be one wearing Gucci while vacuuming the floor and cooking dinner. And I would have had my own pad.

In one sentence, would she have made that statement if she is happy in a relationship, be it with a husband or a boyfriend?

I don’t think so.

So if you have a Holy Miss Bitch in your life, just remember to analyse the circumstances behind the story. Sad, resentful people often backstab others to make themselves feel better. Learn to forgive her (or him, since men can be quite bitchy too). Go ahead. Be magnanimous. Forgive her and pity the loser.





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