An Open Letter To The Catty Girls

Dear Catty Girls, I heard everything you said. I ignored you as you whispered about my clothes wondering why he was talking to me. You cut down how I looked and the way the tank top fell on my bones. I didn’t mind what you were saying, I know you know I could hear. I hope it made you feel better, that it filled the holes eating away inside you.

Dear Catty Girls. I wonder what you think when you see yourself in the mirror while you’re brushing your teeth in the morning. I hope it’s all positive because the kinder your thoughts the lighter you will be. If you decide to put on make up, I hope that it is only for you. That you realize the amount of eyeliner you put on is not directly related to how much you are worth. No foundation can cover how you are a miracle of seconds conspiring to create each moment from when you appeared on this earth.

Dear Catty Girls. Him talking to me has nothing to do with you. Or me. It’s just a human connection where he is being the most basic polite anyone can be. The clothes you are wearing is not a ritual for a drug induced night, it is your choice to look how you do and confidence is the most wonderful thing you could ever wear. Your smile is the best accessory while you speak to others in a way that promotes the lightness you established in the morning. Your hair is curled meticulously with fingers painted perfectly. You take pride in your hands while you shake his with hello.

Dear Catty Girls. I hope the words you are blatantly insinuating towards me will help mend the rips in your heart. I refuse to believe your soul is so tarnished that you continue the negative lashing but it does not break my skin. It is not thick with tin but instead soft, able to absorb every single one of your blows. I will not be a punching bag, but I will let you show me all the places you have been hurt. These insults will not make you feel better because he is still standing next to me. Please, tell me when this has ever worked?

Dear Catty Girls. This cycle will stop with me. I refuse to let the hurt of what is inside me be a reason to inflict a wound on another. We are all in this together, we are not competition. I merely said hello while he ordered a drink and I was waiting for my friend to return. I never thought any of us needed to be saved because the only thing we own is our bodies and if you don’t love yourself, I’m not sure who else will. Your words make me wonder if you are afraid, but I will help you if you ask. No one has all the answers and I don’t understand why this conversation matters so much to you.

Dear Catty Girls. There was a system in place long before our time where we were put against one another. We must keep our hands open and soft, not waiting for someone else to fill it. At the very least we are sisters, helping each other move forward because kindness has been lost somewhere in cinderblock hallways and cubicles.

Dear Girls. Being mean won’t change my opinion of you.