When Repression Is the Best Solution

Haha I call this SacrificeDISCLAIMER: This is one of those girl-talk posts you may want to think twice about reading in its entirety. There is a chance you may walk away thinking “..huh. I would have rather not known that about her.”

I’ve been thinking and talking a lot about repression lately.

I think it’s the healthiest thing a young woman in my position can do, in some cases. Repress. Repress to stay focused.

I don’t know what this says about me, but a lot of young women in my social circle are throwing adult toy parties. And, henceforth, I have been able to successfully avoid them. Because…I just don’t need that on my mind right now, plain and simple.

Here’s the thing about me. You know how they say a man has two brains, and can only think with one at a time?

Well I don’t know if I have elevated testosterone levels or what, but that is most certainly the case for me.

I have a special nickname I give my other brain, the one with the mouth that talks over my thoughts–I call her that b****. That b**** is always trying to get me into trouble. And it has been a real struggle–sometimes I win, sometimes she does. She’s very persuasive, that b****. She’ll convince me of all manner of nonsense to get her way–she’ll tell me I’m in love, that I know him well enough, that he’s a great person, that who are we to cling to society’s arbitrary and gender-biased standards?! That why should we adhere to rules made by patriarchs to tie down women while they run around and enjoy the very same thing they condemn us for without a thought, care or concern about their own hypocrisy?! Yeah! This isn’t about morals, this is about LIBERATION!



This isn’t about patriarchs and hypocrisy, this is about making the best choices that will lead me to a state of physical and emotional well-being. And it has definitely been well established that “that” act is just something I’m going to have to sacrifice for now in order to be a more focused and emotionally stable young woman.

You would think every part of me would be on the same page with this mission.

But that b**** has her own selfish agenda, and she pursues it ruthlessly, without a thought about my emotional well-being.

It has been a long, hard battle (no pun intended) to successfully lock that heifer away, but I finally did it at the end of the summer. Stuffed a bit in her mouth (no pun intended!!) and muzzled her–that b**** knows she is not allowed to speak for the rest of my natural life, because I still won’t trust her after I’m in a committed and loving relationship. She’s too reckless.

Yeah that’s right, I repressed the hell outta her and everything she associates herself with. Shoot I don’t even put my body in the same physical area as a male unless there are chairs filled with other females between us. I don’t listen to “that” talk. I don’t watch people kissing on TV anymore (well, I don’t own a TV). I stopped listening to Trey Songz (his music will…woo. Yeah. Can’t go there). I developed a case in my mind about why no woman should listen to Trey Songz (because he is just a typical male who will tell you what he thinks you want to hear so you will let him smash).

When I started this post, I meant to touch only briefly on (no pun intended!) this aspect of my repression and move to how I’m repressing my desire to write for a living because I don’t know how to do it. But clearly that’s just not what that b**** had in mind.

In a way, I’m OK with that. I think this, too, is something that us single, educated young women deal with that maybe doesn’t get addressed in the healthiest of manners. We have this new, extreme “hook-up” culture that is telling us it’s OK to have casual sex and that will totally lead to him falling in love with you and will in no way mess with your physical and emotional well-being…that I know, personally, is not true of me and my molecular structure. And then, because I’m Christian, I have this other cultural perspective that tells me to pray that b**** silent that…almost doesn’t make sense to me. It’s almost par to me praying that God remove in me the need to poop, in my mind at least. I DEFINITELY understand praying for control–believe me, I am praying that He let me remain in control right now, simultaneously as I type this. But I’m not sure it’s being true or fair to my nature or my relationship with God if I pray that He takes that need from me–I’m just not sure that’s how this works.

And then I have the professional, career-minded aspect of me that says that it’s OK to have these conversations, but probably not in a public forum where any employer can Google search bryoneyH and learn all about how that b**** and I are embroiled in a bitter match to the end for the full use of my body.

“…she didn’t list skitzo in the ‘About Me’ portion of her application….”

But somebody’s got to talk about these things, because somebody’s got to facilitate these conversations among young, single, educated women who are consciously trying to make decisions that only contribute to their physical and emotional well-being. Somebody’s got to say that this is a part of being a young woman too and it’s normal and healthy, but for now you might just have to muzzle that b**** so you can stay focused.


2 responses to “When Repression Is the Best Solution

  1. Pingback: …You Mean to Tell Me it’s all Because I’m a Virgo?? | Bryoneyh's Blog

  2. Pingback: The Implications of ‘Bryoney’ | Bryoneyh's Blog

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