Fuck Nice

Dear Universe,

I can’t be nice.

I don’t know if I’m too much in the pain still. Or resentment. Bitterness. Betrayal. Shock. A combination.

But I can’t be nice.

Every time I interact with this man, I say my truth. And I don’t sugarcoat it.

To me, it feels great. Necessary. Empowering.

But to him, I think it all it does is confirm that I’m just an angry irrational bitch and that he did the right thing by leaving me.

But maybe I wouldn’t be an angry irrational bitch if he hadn’t lied to me.

Maybe I wouldn’t be an angry irrational bitch if he had been there for his family.

Maybe I wouldn’t be an angry irrational bitch if I could have trusted that my husband would have stuck to his vows and been in our bed and not hers.

So you know what, Universe? I think I’m allowed to be angry.

And you know what else? I don’t think I’m irrational at all.

In fact, I think this anger is fueling me to see things completely rationally. To see that I deserved better. That I am worth fighting for. That I am someone who trusts and loves deeply and works hard for the things she believes in, and that I got taken advantage of.

Fuck nice.

Let him think I’m a bitch, Universe. Let the whole world think I am. How sad that a woman who has been burned and reacts out loud has to wear that title. But if that’s the way it is, I wear it with pride.

I don’t apologize for my anger, Universe. Give me more. Give me more fire to help me burn brighter.

Nice will come from the ashes when it’s good and ready.

XO – Bailee the Bitch