The size three Skinny Minnie who pinches the 1/4″ of fat on her thigh in public and in full view of no less than four super-sized women crying “Oh my god! I am SO HUGE! Life isn’t worth living!” Fat or thin, you just have to hate her by default.
The wench with gold and diamonds on no fewer than four fingers of each hand telling you she can’t possibly afford a $50 donation to the charity you both belong to, while complaining about “having to buy” her daughter a newer, better Mercedes. You reflect that your largest donations have come from the least well-off members of your charity.
Ditto the same type of person who belongs to a professional association just to have the letters after their name but refuses to pony up a few volunteer hours, complaining about how “busy” she is. Like the board members and others who volunteer their time are not?
And how about the woman who loudly pities your companion for “still being out there” and dateless, then regales you both with tales of how happy and well adjusted her marriage is, how smart, respectful and awesomely amazing her kids are and how well her business is going….while wondering into the open air why your gal-pal’s business isn’t quite “there” yet and what could possibly be putting prospective suitors off the idea of coupling for life with her. You steam in sympathy for your gal-pal while she sits there stricken, unable to muster a snappy reply.
If it looks like concern, but it feels like being shit on, it’s Smug Bitchitude.
And it transcends sex, men do it too (though Her Frostiness has more experience with women exhibiting these behaviors).
Remember Oh You Pretty Things, that Smug Bitches exhibit such ‘tude because inside they feel very, very small in themselves. Small and scared and desperately needy. And they are so underempowered that the only way they can feel good about life is to make others feel bad about themselves.
Don’t fall for it. Not for a minute. Even if the Smug Bitch’s life looks 2,000 points better than yours. Don’t EVER let anyone force you into comparing yourself with anyone but yourself. Your own performance, issues, headspace, behavior and needs are the only benchmarks you should ever compare yourself with. Ever.
And try the flipside of the Smug Bitch. She who is Proud of Herself but not too big egoed to lend a helping paw, commiserate with a downtrodden sister (without making her feel shitty for being downtrodden) and lives in Great Gratitude for what she has. She does not want anything anyone else has. She is Content In Herself, Giving To Others and Kind When She Doesn’t Have To Be.
This is the kind of woman I want to hang with. Or have as a friend, sister, lover, confidante. This is the kind of woman I wake up every day and try to be. I don’t always make it and sometimes descend to the nether fields of the Nephilim, but rather that than to end up a Smug Bee-otch who Wretch-like, “concentered all in self…doubly dying, must go down…”
Truly, a fate worse than Manolo Blahnick’s two sizes too small…