Like many women, I struggle with being unlikable because I am not docile enough, sweet enough, my voice isn’t high enough, and I don’t curb my opinions enough to make sure the other person feels comfortable. I am perhaps not polite enough, not girly enough, and I speak honestly, for better or for worse, but because of these things I have been called rude, stuck up, blunt, aggressive, unkind, and the list goes on. I can remember crying about people misunderstanding me and mistaking my assertive sense of self for coldness, or for being called a bitch because I stuck up for myself. And what is it about being easy to digest that makes someone likable? Is it because they won't challenge your views? Or is it because they aren't disrupting anything in your life? Why are assertive women viewed as cold women? The need to control women has always been a main objective in society. The quieter they are the easier it is to tell their story for them.
I hate talking about this because I don't ever want to undermine the nuance and multiplicity of being a woman. I love being a woman so much, I love the complexities and deep feelings of being a woman that I never want to sell anyone's experience of it short. The truth is every woman has been an unlikeable woman at some point. To be a woman is to be strong, and soft, it's to be liked and unliked, it's to be a bitch and sweet. Sometimes I think the bitchiest women I know are the sweetest ones. I don’t know if this is a projection or if it’s true, I don’t know if I’m crazy or sane, I don’t know if I have generations of being gaslit in my blood and maybe it all boils over sometimes. I don’t know how to piece it all together without sounding mean or judgemental or like a bitch –how deeply the fear of being perceived as a bitch is embedded into women’s brains.
In 2023, Rachel Zegler came under fire for her comments about her role as Snow White in the Disney remake. It snowballed and soon there were clips of her saying “[Snow White’s] not going to be saved by the prince, and she’s not going to be dreaming about true love.” I think what rubbed most people the wrong way was how she said it, almost mockingly and condescending. People were also upset and appalled that she would talk poorly about the movie she was to star in. They called her spoiled, entitled, bitch, brat, ungrateful, etc. Then this year, Dakota Johnson started circulating Tiktok for her interviews promoting the movie she was starring in, Madame Web. She was also speaking her honest opinion about the movie she was starring in. Upon its negative audience response she told interviewers, “Unfortunately, I’m not surprised that this has gone down the way it has.” She went on to talk about how hard making a film is and that big companies that make these Marvel movies are relying on trends and metrics and not authentic emotions and stories. I laughed at her comments and even admired her for them, related to her. People started to compare the two women and their treatments, with Rachel getting death threats and Dakota getting praised. I found Rachel's comments annoying and found Dakotas endearing, and then I started to wonder why those were my initial reactions to them. Dakota is more likable because her personality is softer. She is deadpan and witty but she is still a polite woman, doing polite society things. I realized I wanted Rachel to not sound too... Bitchy. Why can’t she tone it down? Why did she have to say it like that? And then the answer circled back to me dead in the face. I was perpetuating what I have experienced, what every woman has experienced.
—
I recently finished reading “Looking for Lorraine”, a biography of Lorraine Hansberry by Imani Perry. Her closest friends were James Baldwin and Nina Simone, who have both gone on to be well remembered and largely liked, but I wonder, what about Lorraine? Similar to James Baldwin’s and Nina Simone’s groundbreaking of racial barriers, she was the first Black woman to have her play picked up by Broadway. Lorraine was intense and passionate. She did not bend to anyone’s will, she did not let up or quiet down, she was not going to be someone to walk all over, and she was not going to make nice just so the other people could feel comfortable. Lorraine’s main objective was that you feel uncomfortable so that you become radical for change like she was. There is a famous sitdown that Lorraine was a part of, noted as the Baldwin-Kennedy meeting, where she and several other people of cultural and political prominence sat down with Attorney General Robert F Kennedy to discuss the full extent of racism in America. In that meeting, Lorraine “towered, that child, from a sitting position”, as Baldwin remembers, and told RFK that he was not taking racism seriously enough, and implored that he treats this as a moral issue. Baldwin says she was cutting and fierce and walked out after she said what she had to say, fuming. There isn’t much video footage of Lorraine Hansberry but in the clips I saw of her she doesn’t seem particularly scary or aggressive like some said. She didn’t come off like a bitch or an unpleasant woman like others whispered about. She seemed incredibly intelligent, with a seriousness that speaks to how seriously she saw the world.
Imani Perry wondered the same thing I did about Lorraine. At the end of her chapter titled, “The Trinity” she said, “Unexpectedly but appropriately, in the twenty-first century, after death, Jimmy and Nina were reborn as icons on posters and pillows and in books upon books. Lorraine has yet to be.” I wonder if any of this has to do with likeability. I wonder if some women are treated better, remembered longer, or even taken more seriously because of their likeability. Because they aren’t intense, they go with the flow and are a bit more muted than loud, or maybe they bat their eyelashes more, or maybe they smile more. Well, Lorraine was very intense. She was powerful. I imagine Lorraine Hansberry like a meteor, a firey ball of momentum that would not give way—only at her abrupt death. What does it mean to be an unlikeable woman?
Despite my mother sometimes being the one who critiques my strong temperament, I learned a lot of it from her. In the small town in Mexico where she is from the women do not smile. Every time I visit she reminds me, as if I could ever forget. It's a machismo world there, where men dominate more obviously than here in the States. To smile as a woman there makes you look weak, and welcoming, if you know what I mean. Maybe that’s where I learned to not smile at strangers, maybe that's why people here in the States tell me to smile more. Maybe that's why here women are afraid of my mom. What they determine as unlikable in her is what has protected her. Maybe she is also the reason I am drawn to unlikeable women, strong women.
I am reflecting now on how much I have changed. Didn’t people always talk about my “temperament”? Have I learned how to be pleasant? Is it okay and maybe even sometimes helpful to learn to be pleasant or am I succumbing to the rules of misogyny? How can any one of us not bend ourselves a little bit to survive this world? Recently, I have had to train my sister at work on how to smile while talking on the phone, because people are less receptive to a woman unless she sounds friendly. People respect men with stern voices but hate women with stern voices. In 2010, Nicki Minaj had a documentary come out with MTV. She said, “When I’m assertive I’m a bitch. When a man is assertive, he’s a boss. He bossed up.” I am reading the comments on YouTube when I hear her say “You never know how much is too much– too much emotion, too much vulnerability, too much power. Everyone wants me to be something different. Women in the industry are judged more.” Women in society are treated like a cocktail drink. 1 ½ oz of vodka, ¾ oz of Cointreau, a splash of lemon juice, not too much sugar, only a little simple syrup, and nothing too spicy. Everything has to be “just right” to be consumed whole. The flavors must blend smoothly together, anything too bold is untrustworthy on the lips. The one drinking the cocktail wants it to be strong but still sweet—a perfect mix.
On the other side of bitch, at least in this context, is a woman who is confident in herself, who advocates for herself and while she may be afraid, she voices her opinion anyway. It is all the qualities men aspire to—power, control, strength. It’s a woman who can protect her own and won’t be easily shoved around. It’s a woman like Lorraine who is passionate about the truth. It’s women like Rachel who don’t know that there is a “right” way of speaking out on the negative impact Disney roles have had on women. It’s women like Dakota who speak out on movies made by committees instead of artists. It's women like my mother who had to learn early on to speak up for herself because no one else would. It’s women all over the world who have been told no simply because they are women. It’s women who are maybe more like men in that they are unafraid to have their voices heard. They are reminiscent of roses. They are bold and vibrant, and it’s easy to want to hate a thing that speaks loudly. Roses are intrinsic, have delicate layers, and are undeniably durable. Even if you try to ignore a rose, and forget to water it, it will keep growing despite your misgivings. And so the unlikable woman goes.
Love everything you’ve written about. It resonates and you’ve articulated it beautifully. Thank you.
As a fellow unlikable woman, I fucking LOVED this