So, I’m 35, and my mother would like it if I’d settle down.
Every time I speak with her, she’s like, “have you met anyone?”
And, I love her, deeply, but I am DONE with this conversation. OVER this question. No. I haven’t, and I’m not looking for anyone, either. And, not in a bitter, ‘all men are assholes,’ way, but I bet I could get an ‘amen’ off that on stage… But, no really. I don’t want one. I’ve had opportunity, probably still do in some cases, but…
Here’s the list:
I make our money with my hands and brain.
We get nothing from the government.
I get no financial, physical, or emotional support from either of my kid’s dads.
We have our own place.
We have a car.
We pay our bills and live in first-world comfort.
AND - I am beholden to no man.
I am no one’s princess; I’m the God damned KING.
Lord of the Fucking Manor.
Do you know how many centuries of women reign free in my veins? Hundreds of years of subservient silence, courses through the wild abandon of my heartbeat. Believe me, I haven’t forgotten my place, I’ve just risen above it. I am the culmination of my female ancestors – I have no master.
I am beholden to neither father nor husband nor creed or God. I am freedom.
And, I use it to tell dick jokes on stage.
I'm Jane Malone.