When you’re a bad girl who wants to be a good girl but struggles to fight her nature you inevitability identify patterns to your behavior over time. You know the feelings as the start, you can call the fall of the wheels from your wagon because you recognize the rise, at the dawn of any given day, of emotion which has always yielded an afternoon outburst.
You can not honestly deny that all your attempts at suppression have failed when the dam breaks and your unchecked emotional imbalance floods into the open, rushing full force against the life you pretended to lead.
Bad girls who want to be good also want more than anything to beleive that so long as we don’t look at, address, and otherwise engage the demon that is our negative emotional response it will disappear its own, melt into the background, and dissolve into nothingness, ultimately freeing us of our unrequested inner turmoil.
This, however, is never ever ever the case. It hasnt been the case since we were little and adorable, or old enough to know better but young enough still to just begin learning how to balance our powers of logic and external persuasion.
Not looking the Devil in its is eye wont make him go away. And this method doesn’t work in adulthood when we crumble in the middle of the week and force ourselves to overachieve so we can submit to our fears – in the long-desired, mythical good conscience that we did the most and best we could – and breathe in the truth of our fears: fear of rejection, fear of failure, fear of self sabotage, and fear of betrayal.
And not doing what you always do is never as clear a solution as an outsider might suggest. When you don’t act out, rebel, protest in some small way against conformity and goodness, the tension inside you only boils hotter, until all the truthful and most impolite things you’ve ever not said thunder forth from your lips at the most inopportune moment and singe as many of your social bridges in near proximity and as possible within the timeframe.
So you just go with it and lean into it and give into your bad side because it feels good and familiar and you have tomorrow to start anew and try again to be another, better version of you – whether or not you believe she exists. You still have tomorrow to search for and attempt to conjure her up.
And if she can’t stay long. If your transformation doesn’t hold… Oh well. Nothing lasts forever anyway.