You Say I’m Bitter Like That’s a Bad Thing. It’s not uncommon for someone on social media to comment in response to a writer expressing a grievance to say something like, “Bitter much?” That’s usually the extent of the comment. (Apparently the people who like to throw this one out there expect its effect to be so devastating that they need not expand on it.)

More often than not, this pithy response is aimed at older female writers, and it’s usually younger female writers doing the aiming. I think that says a lot more about the mindset of the commenter than the writer at whom the implied criticism is directed.

One of the worst things we can be in this society is a bitter old woman, which is funny when you realize it’s often society that makes us that way. But few of us are uniformly bitter, and those who are deserve some sympathy because they’ve been through some shit, y’all.

Yes, it would be bad to be bitter about everything, but, considering that bitterness is the fruit of negative experience that one finds difficult to forget, I think we’re entitled to be bitter about some things. Often, these are things that aren’t easily prettied up and ignored. Bitterness over the loss of a loved one or losing a promotion to the boss’s profoundly unqualified son is justifiable.

Life isn’t fair. We can’t always grin and bear it. If spewing a little spleen makes you feel better, I say go for it. Just try not to make a habit of it.

This isn’t the village of the shiny, happy people we’re living in. Sometimes, we need to speak our truth, even when it’s difficult for others to hear. We may be doing them a favor. To be forewarned is to be forearmed.

“I am sorry to think that you do not get a man’s most effective criticism until you provoke him. Severe truth is expressed with some bitterness.” — Henry David Thoreau