Don’t teach girls to be good.

Please, don’t.

I am realizing just now how many things I have not done because of childhood taming. I was taught to be polite and to keep my teachers happy. Yes, education is of major importance. Yes, good grades definitely help to get ahead. But, nobody ever taught me that my grades, and life, were for me.

(I kind of did have an inkling but it always came with a grain of guilt – a little gift for those who want it “wing-roomier”).

Teachers loved me. I was diligent and scared shitless of being reprimanded. And I always smiled. As I grew up, a new pleasing target was handed to me – men. Because we all know – a girl is no good by herself.

I am picturing a room full of respectable men dressed in suits, writing little notes on the margin of my resume, as they are considering my application for a position of their lucky wife. What a bunch of….

In reality, I tortured my biggest love with fantasies of being an Indian temple prostitute, and he loved me madly (I did, too).

Another one fell under my (unintentional) spell as a result of an (intentionally) drunken one night stand in Brooklyn combined with me going “Thank you for your sex ^(TM) and good-bye”.

But dammit, I still filter my blogs. I am a baddest girl trapped in a goodest girl’s life. Yeah, yeah, yeah, despite sex, rock’n'roll and jail. I catch myself smile timidly and nod where I should scream and walk away. I have kickass stories to tell that I don’t. I even censor my own lyrics because God forbid somebody might recognize himself in my songs and then – oh horror – think I am BAD!

Don’t teach girls to be good. Please, don’t.

====> to be continued….