Taking off the muzzle

On the subject of life changing books, I’m halfway through the Audible version of Untamed by Glennon Doyle and that motherfucker has brought me to my knees a number of times already. Physically. On the floor. Agape.

I do not intend for this to become some sort of book review blog. I’m not very good at book reviews anyway. I either get too gushy and carried away or I’m too scared to misrepresent something because I think you should let it speak for itself and just read it already even though that would take longer than reading a book review.

But I digress.

I am noticing myself changing back into some of the things I used to be.

I used to have teeth. And, more importantly, I used to use them. Hell, I’ve lost count of the number of men I have literally bitten, but what I’m really thinking about is all the people I’ve cut down viciously with words or disparaging silence. I used to hurt people. And I didn’t do it judiciously. I was mean, I was cold, I was dangerous to be around.

And like attracts like so, eventually, colluding with other destructive people brought me to a place where I’d been hurt so much myself I decided I didn’t want to be that way anymore. I disavowed my anger and aggression. I refused to bite. At least as best I could. I even became vegan. My teeth didn’t actually fall out so, yes, there was some collateral damage. But I was mostly neutralised.

I tamed myself in that very specific way and I now, after years of thinking it virtuous, wish to undo that taming.

That’s not really what the book is about (although it’s part of it), and not really why the book has had me bowing in surrender (although it’s part of it); it’s just a very specific way that the book has crossed paths with my personal revelations to reveal a lovely extended metaphor.

We are supposed to have teeth. Nice guys finish last because nice is passive as fuck. Some people, some situations, deserve to be bitten.

And what’s more, we are supposed to have passion, drive, agency. Things inextricably linked to our sharp, dripping, carnivorous teeth. We don’t need to put corks on the ends, we just need to learn to use them well.

Okay. Mission accepted.

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