Bitch Island 🧟♀️🏝
/A couple of my girlfriends and I have this bit; apparently every divorced guy was married to the Wicked Witch of the West. Every. Single. One. While I’m sure some of these women have been cold/difficult/nagging/insert your fave adjective here, I’m guessing they’re not ALL that terrible. Not to mention that these divorced chicks have PLENTY to say about their ex husbands. So where are all these awful women hanging out?? I mean, while we all occasionally meet psycho bitches, I have yet to encounter mass herds of them cruising the streets (unless you live on the Upper East Side of Manhattan).
I like to joke that these female monsters are all living on Bitch Island. That since no one can really attest to their existence, they must be hiding out en masse in some probably exotic locale, laughing and drinking champagne in their Lulu Lemon outfits and Birkin bags, purchased with their alimony settlements. Trading stories about how their ex hubbies sucked in bed while thinking they were Ron Jeremy. How listening to them talk about sports was like being forced to hear the world’s most annoying ringtone over and over. How their increasingly softening bellies were an embarrassment to their Soul Cycled wives. This is what I picture taking place on Bitch Island, where Adderoll is dispensed in gum ball machines and PMS warrants free massages round the clock. Estrogen patches arranged artfully in pretty baskets in the en suite bathrooms. And there is a special staff whose job is solely to bathe these women in compliments, while actually bathing them in a scented mineral bath. On Bitch Island no one has to pretend to give a shit about their mother in law, or the dreadful coworker and his wife. No one needs to pick up vile, stretched out, yellowed underwear off the floor. These bitches are done with playing the good little wifey, and can let their true inner demon fly. They’re being badmouthed anyway, so who cares?? They may as well do whatever they want. After all, such is the true nature of the Bitch. And since like attracts like, they love to congregate on an island designed for them by them. They aren’t bitchy because they’re unhappy, which is usually the case. Nope! They’re assholes because they just damn well feel like it. No more pretenses. No more phony role playing. They know they’re being dragged through the mud but they couldn’t care less. The inhabitants of Bitch Island are immune to the opinion of others. Feelings aren’t considered cool there. However, selfishness, greed, materialism, and frigidity are.
When I recount certain tales from the Ex Wife Anthology of Meanness to my friend Shira, she wisely counters with , “Oh please, I’d loooooove to hear her take on this”. Which is a good point. I’m of course only hearing one side of the story, and we all know that there’s three sides; his, hers, and the truth. It’s a little scary for me since there’s a whole other perspective that I’m not privy to, when dating new dudes. Even if most of what he’s saying is completely valid, she could have well earned insight and intel. There’s only one answer; time will tell. Listen, I’m also someone’s ex wife. Should I book my ticket to Bitch Island too? Should I run for mayor? I know some pretty amazing divorced women, and there are men out there who claim they’re the worst. What I do know is that one day one of those Bitches will be so dear to me, because as a result of her ensnaring and abusing her ex, I will cross paths with him and ride off into the sunset. If her being a nightmare gives me my Guy, then I shall most gratefully declare her the best Bitch on the whole island. And her next PMS massage will gladly be on me. Estrogen patches and Botox for everyone! ️️XO
