Don’t Call Me Crazy

Guest contributor Rula Al-Nasrawi is a Columbia Graduate whose writing has appeared in Vice, The Atlantic, and other online publications. Her first language is valley girl. Californian bred, NYC residing. @RulaOfTheWorld

I am writing this because I am two and a half steps away from checking myself in to a psych ward. No, I didn’t feed my ex-boyfriend an arsenic smoothie or start my own bling ring. I am checking myself in because I sent a guy one too many texts and have deemed myself unable to function in society.

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Ok, fine I’m kidding. But in all honesty, when was the last time you called yourself or another girl crazy? Guaranteed it was at least once this week. We as women use the word “crazy” casually, like we’re sifting through a clearance clothing rack. But look, I’ve seen American Horror Story: Asylum, and I know what it takes to be clinically insane. I don’t introduce myself to people as Anne Frank and I’m pretty sure I’m not possessed by any satanic demons.

I mean, if you’re going to freak out when a guy calls you crazy, then why are we letting our fellow females get away with it? When a guy tells me his ex-girlfriend is a psycho bitch, I don’t have to automatically believe him. Honestly, unless the girl is systematically ripping the hairs out of her head and muttering to herself in Na’avi talk, I’m going to have to side with her on this one.

If society were to diagnose insanity, a woman getting dumped and being openly pissed off about it is nuts. A woman who calls someone out for being rude, racist, or sexist is a psycho. A woman who has too much tequila one night and texts a guy a series of vegetable emojis is, you guessed it, totally crazy.

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The word “crazy”, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is mad, insane, erratic, and unusual. Half the things we label as crazy don’t fall under this category, yet we continue to do it. We’re not doing it because we like the drama, we’re doing it because it’s been ingrained in us for generations. Men are rational, women are irrational. It’s just how the world works right?

In his viral piece about female craziness, Harris O’Malley from the Huffington Post explained the root of the word “hysteria” and its Greek ties to the word “uterus”. Yes, male doctors labeled us years ago, but it’s now our job as females to redefine the meaning of the word. I am done with placing myself in the nuthouse. Yes, I have an extensive fake hair collection and I sometimes hug homeless people on the street. Definitely strange, but as of right now, I think I’m still ok living amongst the rest of you.

For the sake of redefining the word, I’d recommend keeping it in your arsenal for when it really counts. When I’ve successfully moved in to Channing Tatum’s attic without him knowing, and jump-started my own toenail clipping jewelry line, then and only then will I allow you to lock me up, wrap me in a straightjacket and crown me crazy.

 

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