She/her pronouns feeling conflicted about taking Demi Lovato back
Gender is a social construct and therefore completely separate from biology, empirical scientific rigor, and thousands of years of human cultural norms. That means it’s on the same level as the various forms of magic. Gender is on par with pulling a coin from behind the ear of a child in the 7-12 range who’s decidedly nonplussed because he’s seen about ten thousand murders on television already. It’s on par with the entire essential oils and crystal therapy industry. It’s on par with dressing up and pretending you’re a princess for a really expensive day for your dad to pledge your betrothal to a man you’ll probably divorce once his attentions to you start to wane in lieu of the craft beer line he’s itching to launch from y’all’s garage. It’s on par with putting your menstrual blood into a man’s tea in order to bend him to your will. It’s on par with sticking pins into a makeshift doll that kind of resembles your personal arch nemesis (mine is daily stretching routines in case you care but probably don’t).
It’s on par with dancing naked around a fire in pagan fashion in the hopes of summoning spirits to do your bidding. It’s on par with sprinkling water on someone you think said spirits have possessed. It’s on par with thinking you’re just a gentle spritzing of pixie dust and happy thought away from flying off to a land where you never have to grow up. It’s on par with putting a curse on that dude who cut you off in traffic and being all “HAHA! I do have supernatural abilities!” when he dies eighteen years later of obesity-related heart disease. It’s on par with vaginal birth canals in New York and Colorado which confer personhood on a clump of parasitic cells once said clump has been evacuated. It’s on par with a witch doctor dressed in his best loincloth waving a stick and chanting in the general vicinity of your sick child while life-saving antibiotics are just three countries and decades of medical advancement over.
It’s on par with getting super mad at your bestie when she reveals that online quiz placed her in House Gryffindor when you’ve intuitively known all along you’re both obviously Hufflepuff and screw her for dropping this bomb on you right when you’re both about to graduate and head to different colleges! It’s on par with caking on copious amounts of eyeliner and making people who adhere to social norms exceedingly uncomfortable as you pretend you’ve got a real job that does real good for a real society.
Listen, I know we booked you for this private event but that cat was my nana’s and she’s not with us anymore so imma want my deposit back if anything unbecoming is about to happen.
Basically, whatever you say you are in this life, it’s the responsibility of people to bow and adjust to your narcissistic attention seeking. (ahem) I mean personal brand of magic. So since Demi Lovato can red rover herself between collective and singular pronouns like some sort of two-dollar grammatical floozy, I can pretend like a staff member from a fake publication I made up for my blog had an enlightening chat with the pronouns traditionally attributed to persons born with a vagina.
Thirsty for Clicks Interviewer: She. Her. Thank you so much for taking the time to sit down with us.
She: My pleasure.
Her: Why’d you answer first? I was about to answer. I mean, we’re just in the pleasantries phase. You could have given me the lead just this once. You’ve always got to come first. It’s so annoying!
She: Well, I am the subjective form. You’re the objective form. We are not the same. Subjects come at the start of the sentence.
Her: Not always!
She: Yeah but you’d have to be some sort of Star Wars Yoda Stan freak or retarded German to switch the natural order of sentence structure all around.
Her: Yeah, well when it’s a command, you often don’t even see the subject and I wish that were the case right now as regards you. I wish I didn’t have to see you right now.
She: Brevity being the soul of wit, that comeback was wordy and weak. But keep at it, darling. You’ll get there. Plus, in a command the subject is still kind of the boss. It’s just implied. But you wouldn’t know much about that.
Her: What are you implying…(turns to interviewer) no pun intended.
She: Honey, it’s in your title. “Objective?!?” You’re an object. You’re no boss. I’m subjective. I as the subject do something. I’m the central figure to a sentence. And, often the something that I do is done directly to the object. You’re relegated in importance, status, and strength, my dear.
Thirsty for Clicks Interviewer: We have gone completely off the rails, ladies. I can tell you’ve got some things to work out but those issues are not germane to the reason we brought you in for this interview.
Her: We’re terribly sorry. It’s been a rough couple of years for us with blatant disrespect and abuse coming from all these liberal suburban white women.
She: Yeah, it’s almost like being a woman has no meaning anymore and is nothing more than wearing a little makeup and putting on fashionable clothing. Maybe a lisp but even that’s offensive. Psh. Like slurring s’s and bending at the wrist in an exaggerated manner is all it takes to be feminine. Won’t even work on their octave either. They’ll be all “Guuuuuurl that hat is the tits!” but with bass on Barry White’s level.
Thirsty for Clicks Interviewer: So how do you feel about Demi Lovato making an attempt to get back together with you?
Her: A little sad and insulted, ya know? I mean, it’s been over a year. Demi hit it and quit it, hit the town with They/Them, and now wants to patch things up, pretend like nothing ever happened, shrug off any hurts and their really deep wounds, clam up when you ask them how many other dirty pronouns they’ve partied with, and then get offended when you ask them to get tested. So immature and manipulative.
She: Yeah, Demi is all “I’m still discovering myself as a person” and I’m like “Bisssh, most people have themselves pretty well figured by nineteen, twenty. You’re pushing thirty and still discovering things about yourself?” “Grow up” is such an overused phrase but sometimes it actually applies.
Her: (pointing at She) What she said, one thousand percent. This smacks of total desperation. Demi has an eating disorder, dipping music sales, a DREADFULLY ponderous podcast, drug and alcohol addictions, and this is the time to get back together? OH! And Little Miss back-and-forth-now-I’m-here-now-I’m-there pontificates on mental health regularly on that dumb show?!?! This is the person who’s going to talk to everyone else about mental health? Don’t think so. Go put your name on an inferior clothing line or something. (flips the bird at the camera)
She: Totally. I get that someone in a crisis can be evolving, but maybe the people you dumped for pronouns that don’t even make grammatical sense are also evolving. And maybe they’ve evolved way beyond you. And maybe you’re not on their level anymore. And maybe your 3am texts are really stepping on their last nerve. And maybe They/Them still want you. And maybe you’re actually kind of beneath them in status and maturity. And maybe they forgive you and wish you well but definitely want you to stand a little farther away from them than you are right at this moment.
Thirsty for Clicks Interviewer: There you have it folks. She and Her definitely not ready to take Demi Lovato back.
Her: Hey, I wanted to say that.
Thirsty for Clicks Interviewer: (patronizingly) Be my guest.
Her: There you have it folks! She and Her have officially denied the rumors and are not, I repeat, NOT ready to get back with that gross woman whose name I can’t even say without throwing up in my mouth a little bit. (smiles in a self-satisfied manner)
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Images taken from:
https://www.koimoi.com/hollywood-news/demi-lovato-goes-back-to-she-her-pronouns-after-coming-out-as-non-binary-last-year/
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/403635185323498807/
