Speaking just for myself, I’m sure I was open-hearted at one point, but I can’t for the life of me remember when that was or when my heart started to harden. I do remember a defining moment in my development, circa 1998. I was broken and determined to never be dependent on a man for anything ever again — a feeling that was greatly aided by the release of the movie version of Great Expectations. Gwyneth Paltrow’s character instantly became my hero. I wanted to be an untouchable man-eater and kill my feelings, too.
Follow the link to take the full tour. Either way, don’t worry; she’s living well:
Yet, if I’m be completely honest (and not glib), my scorn isn’t something that flares up on a case-by-case basis. It’s cumulative, and if left unchecked, it will harden my heart over a lifetime. My scorn comes with baggage. It comes with my daddy issues. It comes with my step-daddy issues. It comes with unreturned text messages, defiance and the idea that it’s “me against the world.”
At its core, my scorn comes with a deep-seated feeling of worthlessness that I’ve been running from my whole life. And it’s taken me 20 years of self-reflection and work to get to a point where I can detach — and not in an unhealthy “you’re dead to me” way, but in a loving way — because after all, the best revenge truly is a life well lived.
Related: Feminists are ugly.