Column Archives - Tony Ward

Kitchie Ohh: This Time Last Year

Pinup model Kitchie Ohh posing in an old english style house — Kitchie Ohh: Photo: David Rocha, Shogun Photography

This Time Last Year

This time last year, I made my grand debut here at Tony Ward Studio with a series of covers and writings. For the Vixens series project, Tony offered me a prompt which I took in a direction that was incredibly cathartic. Spilling my guts out in those pieces turned into a monthly thing and with this article, you have now been subjected to a full year of my ramblings. Thanks for reading, and also, I’m sorry! (Well, no, not really.)

A lot can change in a short amount of time. Sometimes, the change is good; other times, not so much. Sometimes, change is exciting; others, scary. Often, there’s a whole mix of emotion happening all at once. But that’s the thing, no matter how we feel about it, change is inevitable. Beginnings and endings are constantly happening. Big changes, little changes. Ones that shake your entire world or go barely noticed. We often hear the expression “the beginning of the end,” but what about the beginning IN the end?

I have always enjoyed writing. I loved creative writing assignments and book reports in school. Though I never kept an official journal, writing out feelings and thoughts was, and still is, one of the ways I process things in my life. A large part of my career for the last two decades has involved writing in some way. So when the opportunity came up to combine writing with my newer-found hobby of modeling, I thought, why not? And then I was terrified. This wasn’t a school assignment. This was me, my image alongside my thoughts, my opinions for anyone to read. And judge. And criticize. I sat at my computer with the provided prompt and the words poured out. The images and articles went live. Despite my anxiety, I shared the links everywhere, and was proud of myself. I had told my parents about the project but instead of directing them to the links, I wanted them to hear my words from me. It was important. I read all three articles to them at the dining room table. I didn’t make it through without crying. Even though the articles were already posted and people had shared positive feedback, it was reading them out loud to my parents that changed me. The days of bottling my feelings, of not talking about the things that hurt me were at an end. So, too, were the days of thinking I couldn’t or shouldn’t share my “non-professional” writing out of the belief that no one cared what I had to say. I’ve been writing monthly, now, for an entire year. My original thoughts and words are out there but I’m the one who doesn’t care now. I always hope that any piece I write evokes something in the people who read it, but I no longer obsess about whether it is good enough to be read.

At the time of my photoshoot last September, things had been extremely tense for some time at my job. It made me sad. It had started out as my dream job. The organization and mission were close to my heart, but the environment changed. It was affecting my personal life and that had to end. I put my love of writing to good use refreshing my resume and cover letters. It was validating and exciting to interview at multiple companies. Potential employers were interested in and impressed by my skills and experience. Things got very real, very quickly, when I had multiple offers in the same week. I panicked, but again writing came to the rescue through a handwritten “pro and con” exercise of each offer. Clearly, I came up with a winner. My new role is a challenge, but in mostly good ways. I no longer feel like I’m being set up to fail. Instead, I’m welcoming new responsibility, providing leadership and support to a whole team. I am trusting myself. I still get to write, too. This new chapter in my professional life couldn’t have been possible without the ending of the previous one.

Believe me, I’m well aware that not all endings can be viewed and associated with a positive beginning as I’ve laid out above. Like when we lose someone, such as a failed relationship or the death of a loved one, that ending is devastating. Everything you do after they are gone is a sad beginning, a first time without them. But it’s also a success; evidence that you CAN do those things anyway. As much as it may hurt doing them alone, you begin to heal through that persistence.

No matter what the end may be, the type of beginning it brings is your choice. There is time and space enough for you to both mourn the loss of what was and celebrate what comes next. You can be happy to stop something but scared to begin another. There is absolutely no way to prevent yourself from ever facing a change, a loss, an end; you might as well take control of it. Because without the ends there can be no beginnings.

And so this concludes a year’s worth of tolerating my ranting. Stay tuned for what next month may bring.

To Be Continued…..

Kitchie

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Kitchie Ohh is a full-time professional fundraiser who has worked with a number of health and human services nonprofits in the Philadelphia area over the last 20 years. She found her passion for modeling after a pinup-style photoshoot in 2013. Since then, she has worked with many talented photographers, stylists, hair and makeup artists in a variety of styles. She has been featured in- and on the covers of – multiple print and digital publications. Over the years, she has branched out from pinup studio modeling to serve as a figure model for live sketching, walked a runway, and was part of two campaigns for Philadelphia designer K. Vaughn.

In addition to her philanthropy-focused career, she has volunteered with art, historical, and community organizations, and even the events team of a local brewery for a while, pre-pandemic.

You’re just as likely to find her whipping up something deliciously plant-based in her kitchen or knitting a sweater as you are to find her on a photography set. Her motto is “be both.” The model and the homemaker, sultry and sweet, serious and silly. All the things, all at once.

To access additional articles by Miss Kitchie Ohh, link here: https://tonyward.com/kitchie-ohh-well-thats-embarrassing/

Kitchie Ohh: Well, That’s Embarrassing

Pinup model Kitchie Ohh photographed in a bathtub wearing red lingerie — Photo: Victor Devilbliss, Copyright 2023

Well, Thats Embarrassing

Several years ago, I was spending some quality time with one of my sisters, I have three, but this one’s my favorite. No, it’s not a secret. Our day brought us to the local home improvement store, specifically the outdoor landscaping section. The carts at this store are not the typical shopping cart; they’re open sided, low, and often hard to steer. As we usually do while out shopping, my sister and I wandered away from one another as things caught our respective eyes. Also, as we often do when this happens, we continue talking to one another and suddenly burst out with something like “oooh, come look at this!” to summon the other back. And that’s exactly what happened this day. But remember that shopping cart? As I turned to head back in her direction,I walked directly into the shopping cart whose low profile was completely out of my line of vision. The abrupt stop, and pain, in my lower shin caused a literal knee-jerk reaction and a little hop step away. Wouldn’t you know it? That hard to maneuver thing had turned at the bump from my first step and was slowly rolling in a bit of an arc toward me. I noticed a split second too late. My foot coming down from that upward knee-jerk, landed directly on the bed of the cart and my brain said “nope,” followed by another quick knee-jerk, except this time, having the cart under my foot, I was launched backward. I twirled and flailed like the most uncoordinated ballerina in the world until I finally lost the fight against gravity. Somehow I managed to twist in mid-air to prevent a face first meeting with the ground. But wait! I did not hit the hard concrete floor. No, sir. The universe, apparently, needed more drama. When I finally stopped the panic, I began to laugh hysterically, splayed out in an extra large potted plant, ass in the dirt.

Why share that story? Well, despite my laughing about it, there was a part of me that was so incredibly embarrassed not only to have tripped over something so large that I failed to see, but to have then stumbled and ungracefully crushed a tropical plant with my rear end in public! But hey we all do stupid stuff. We’re human. Sometimes, like this case, it’s completely accidental. We don’t intentionally screw up, but we still find ourselves dealing with the consequence, physically and emotionally.

Falling spectacularly in Home Depot didn’t do any irreparable damage. My bruises healed. I can still peruse every aisle including the garden center without panic. This, of course, was an extreme physical example. But it still raises a question: why do we let other embarrassments that we experience alter us? Worse yet, why do we let the CHANCE of embarrassment do so?

Embarrassment is an emotional reaction. Self-consciousness, shame, awkwardness, they can all be really big feelings – and scary, which is why we avoid them. Can we, though? Should we? A resounding no to both of those questions.

As long as there are people and we worry, at all, what any of them think there’s a chance for embarrassment; it’s unavoidable. That’s the main factor in embarrassment: people. What they see or hear and wondering how they’ll react can be terrifying. Still, we often do try to avoid this unavoidable thing. We are extra careful, don’t speak up or speak out, don’t draw attention, water ourselves down for fear of being too spicy for someone else’s palate. And when a situation arises anyway, we beat ourselves up for it. Extra if our plans to avoid it in the first place failed. If you’ve read the first few posts I’ve written here, you know I’m speaking from experience. Years of constant bullying left me with a coping mechanism of avoidance and to-the-core embarrassment about everything about myself. I know I’m not alone. And I hope I’m not alone in having (mostly) overcome it.

In no way did I wake up one day completely unselfconscious, without a single care about what others thought of me, my interests, appearance, what I said, how I said it, the decisions I made, my life in general. No. I wake up every day and make choices. Control the things I can. Be forgiving when things go awry. Admit my lack of perfection. Accept that even if everything I am, do, and say are perfect, someone will feel differently. When I find myself holding back or shrinking myself down to avoid that self-conscious feeling of embarrassment, I ask myself why is this better? Why will not expressing an idea at the conference table be better than expressing it? It could solve a problem, even if someone else laughs. Why will watching everyone else dance to your favorite song be better than joining them? It brings you just as much joy as them.

Most times, the temporary feelings of being uncomfortable or embarrassed, by far, outweigh whatever avoiding them might take when you get past them. Then having gone through them, we also learn something. Which is the reason, I feel, we shouldn’t plan our hours, days, whole lives around avoiding uncomfortable feelings. The best way is through, right? The lesson could be something about yourself that you didn’t realize before. It could be how to do something, correctly, that you had embarrassingly been doing wrong. It might be as simple as completely enjoying yourself in the moment. And, sometimes, it could be always remember to look out for shopping carts at Home Depot.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

In addition to her philanthropy-focused career, she has volunteered with art, historical, and community organizations, and even the events team of a local brewery for a while, pre-pandemic.

To access additional articles by Miss Kitchie Ohh, link here: https://tonyward.com/kitchie-ohh-no-matter-whats-on-the-menu/

Kitchie Ohh: No Matter What’s on the Menu

Boudoir photo of model Miss Kitchie Ohh photographed in a sexy bedroom — Kitchie Ohh: Photo courtesy of Dynamite Dames Photography, Copyright 2023

No Matter What’s on the Menu

When I was a kid, my dad was on dinner duty during the week, and I was a very picky eater. We had a running joke when I asked what he was making, there were usually multiple pots and pans in use on the stove. He would lift one lid and say, “this is eww.” He’d close that, lift another and say, “and this is yuck.” I usually disliked at least one element of meals and would say so, often in those exact words, eww and yuck. Ugh, why couldn’t he just make stuff that I liked? Thankfully, I’ve outgrown that. My tastes have changed, I try new things but still, I like what I like. I can do so without need for commenting on the parts I don’t, or that others do, now. To each their own, doesn’t bother me at all.

Apparently, not everyone grew out of their ‘eww/yuck’ phase. Many grew deeper into it, digging so far in as to make remarks anytime they see someone consuming food they dislike, or declaring anyone who likes something prepared differently than the original way, or the way they prefer, wrong or that the recipe isn’t authentic, and the person can’t be truly enjoying it. Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza soapboxers, I’m looking directly at you. Seriously, though, can’t we just let people enjoy things? I don’t need you to compare my tofu to all kind of nastiness as I’m eating it, or tell me that I’m doing something scandalous by eating pickled ginger with my sushi roll, or heaven forbid, having peppers on my cheesesteak. I am fully aware that not everyone likes tofu, ginger is included as a palate cleanser, and a “Philly” cheesesteak doesn’t call for peppers, but I LIKE these things…and don’t recall asking for your input. The fact that all of these things are made, sold, and consumed widely show I am not alone, so there.

The eww/yuck idea spills over from food preferences into all aspects of life, though. No matter who you are or what you do, someone is going to have something to say and it won’t always be kind. Or welcome. Or even directly to you. And there is little to nothing you can do to change that.

We’ve covered food preference, and I went light on that, believe me, it could have been a longer rant. But let’s hit some other topics shall we? Let’s start with physical appearance. I am a brunette. I’ve gone lighter, nearly blonde for a while, then to the other end of the spectrum with a near-black brown. I’ve gone pink, purple, and for the longest stretch, red. it’s been extra long, quite short and every length in between, straight, wavy and curly. I’m currently letting it grow, trying to figure out what my actual hair color is and allowing the grey to come as it may. At nearly every point in my hair’s lifecycle, I was told I should do something else with it, wear it some way other than how I liked it at that moment, because another person would prefer MY hair their way. I was told I was too old to experiment with colors, that it wasn’t professional. All unsolicited and absolute nonsense. Because, for every ‘eww/yuck,’ there was a ‘your hair is fabulous.’

Continuing with the physical, I’m not a person who often shows a ton of skin. But sometimes, my choice of clothing reveals that I have a few tattoos. I recall one time at a gala fundraising event for my job, I chose a strapless dress, paired with a classic updo for my hair. I was having a lovely conversation with a guest in my line at the registration table, face to face. A question they asked required me to turn around to pick something up for them. This person who had been so lovely to my face, gasped and said aloud,“ugh, well THAT’S trashy, it ruins the whole look!” When MY upper back was shown to not be the pristine skin they would prefer. They took what I had handed them and walked away, glaring over their shoulder with the eww/yuck look. The person next in line apologized and asked me all about it saying they always wanted tattoos but were too scared to get one.

How about more of a less permanent aesthetic example, hmm? I adore a vintage look. I spent a not insignificant amount of time in social circles, claiming to be inclusive, that did as well. I – or anyone really – could be impeccably dressed, made up, hair done, the whole shebang, for an event. For every compliment, there was an insult or backhanded comment dished out. Well that’s not TRUE vintage. That looks like a costume. You and a million other people got that look straight from Amazon. There would often be whole groups of people passing judgement on anyone who didn’t meet their ideal of what someone should look like to be at this event. But I still will say I met some amazing people, despite such eww/yuck reactions from a small (but loud) segment.

And now for something a bit more intangible: personality, life choices, etc. As a forty-something, heterosexual, single female, I am constantly asked rather inappropriate questions by, or hear comments and suggestions from, well-meaning individuals about improving my life. To be perfectly clear, the improvements are most often ways in which I can align myself better to the ideal woman’s role of wife and mother. A role I do not at all identify with. Let’s face it, if I haven’t drank that kool-aid by now, honey, it ain’t happening. So things like telling me how if I stopped doing this or started doing that I could get a man, and how much easier my life would be with him in the house to take care of me and fix things; saying I will regret not having children, and couldn’t possibly mean it when I say I have no intentions of getting married, and a thousand other variants of these things isn’t cute, appreciated, or necessary. I won’t change my mind about who I am and what I want because it doesn’t align with your opinion. No one should have to for anyone, or any reason. I can take care myself, and the home I purchased for myself, by myself. I am enough; it’s a shame you can’t see that.

For all of the times we laughed at the dinnertime eww/yucks, even the times I actually thought it of the things that were on the menu, I’m grateful the idea didn’t stick. I can experience something and decide ok, that’s not for me without the compulsion to tell others it shouldn’t be for them either simply because I don’t like it. All of this to say, I recognize and appreciate we are each different. From what we like to eat, to how we like to look, to who we spend our time with (or don’t) and how, to the choices we make for ourselves, big and small. No amount of eww/yuck attitude from anyone should deter us from being who we are and enjoying the hell out of the time we’ve got, no matter what’s on the menu.

Portrait of glamour model Miss Kitchie Ohh — Kitchie Ohh. Photo courtesy of Dynamite Dames Photography, Copyright 2023

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

In addition to her philanthropy-focused career, she has volunteered with art, historical, and community organizations, and even the events team of a local brewery for a while, pre-pandemic.

To access additional articles by Miss Kitchie Ohh, link here: https://tonyward.com/kitchie-ohh-what-if/

Kitchie Ohh: What If

glamour shot of pinup model Miss Kitchie Ohh for Tony Ward Studio — Miss Kitchie Ohh. Photo: John Raphel Photography, Copyright 2023

What If

I have this incredible knack, when planning – an event, personal or professional project, travel, what have you – to look for every possible scenario that might happen so I am never unprepared. Honestly, in all my years, I have sometimes even considered impossible ones just to be safe should they somehow occur. I’ve been told it’s a trauma response, a way to self-regulate should the situation trigger my anxiety. But I’ve also been told it’s a superpower, making me one of – possibly the only – level-headed person, able to react in a productive way when the shit hits the proverbial fan. Its a quality that has saved the day more than a few times, but I wouldn’t consider it my highest-ranking character trait.

This same need to see all outcomes before acting is also how I approach decision making for myself. Of course, I’m not referring to every choice I make; I don’t run through every menu option before making my lunch. However, given my inability to grocery shop without first planning out meals for the entire week, I can’t say with certainty that I wouldn’t have a daily lunchtime decision spiral. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. Decisions. Prior to making moderate- large-impact choices, I need to carefully weigh all the options. Years ago, I not only considered every choice’s impact on myself, but everyone else in my life, and I mean EVERY one. I was a stressed mess all the time, worrying how I might upset, hurt or inconvenience others. Thankfully, I’ve learned to limit that part now; considering myself and only those who might be immediately, and likely negatively, impacted by my decision.

The primary questions I ask myself before moving forward with any of the weighed options are:

“Can you live with the outcome of this decision?” and “Can you live with yourself after making this choice?” For example, I had a job offer late last year. It came with an enormous pay increase, a life-changing one. However, during the interview process, so many red flags were raised. It left me feeling…conflicted. Could I take the offer and use the cash? Absolutely. Could I live with compromising myself and my sanity in the process of earning it? Not a chance; money isn’t everything. I declined and went on to accept an offer that came with a slightly lower salary but significantly less – as in none at all! – moral compromise. That’s just one example. I’m are I could bore you to tears with loads more. I won’t. You’re welcome.

It’s quite common for people to look back at decisions they’ve made and wonder, “what if I did it differently?” It’s also not unusual to get stuck in that pattern of second guessing. I’m not immune to it. Despite laying out every possible option and choosing the best outcome that I could live with and retain my integrity and self-respect, I still catch myself wondering, “WTF have I done?” and entering into a period of questioning all of my life choices and whether they were the right ones. I have, however, developed a habit to get me out of that headspace.

Much like my pre-decision process, my post-decision self-doubt spiral prevention process, whether immediate or years later, starts with asking myself a question. I reframe all my “what ifs” with “What if I didn’t?” It’s a slight variation, sure. But it puts a positive spin on it. I look at the choice I did make, and where it lead me. I focus on the good things my choice allowed, not the bad things I could have avoided. Because I don’t think that avoiding bad things is at all possible all of the time. Sometimes they’re inevitable and they add value in the form of lessons.

Here are some chosen at random, in no particular order, examples.

I was extremely unsure of what I wanted to be when I “grew up.” After graduation, I opted out of college, favoring moving out of my parents’ home and entering the workforce at nineteen. It was fully my decision, weighed carefully. I was proud of myself but the what-ifs creeped in often back then. So what if I hadn’t done it? I would have missed out on so many experiences. Surely, I would have avoided some huge mistakes, but without having made them I wouldn’t be the person that’s writing this now. Who knows where I would have gone, what I would have done, who I would become. Yes, I am still proud of the decision.

Speaking of those early mistakes, during those first “on my own” years, I was head over heels in love with a very wrong for me guy. I often questioned, then, if that final straw that ended things was the right choice. I LOVED him What If I stayed? What if I accepted that half-assed marriage proposal? Oh, but had I stayed, had we gotten married, the the things I would have missed out on are too many to even comprehend. His drug use and mental health issues were never mine to fix. But I know that by not making that painful at the time choice to walk away, I would have sacrificed all of me, and my happiness, in the attempt to save him. Solid choice, no regret.

A few years back, I was invited to attend an event, a weekend away. It wasn’t my thing, but being supportive and wanting to spend time with the person who invited me, I agreed. Aside from the complete 180 degree turn in their behavior toward me for the entire weekend, I had a great time. The following year, the event came around again. I had no intention of going, it was near guaranteed I’d have to face that person again after purposely avoiding them since returning home from the last one. Remembering how good a time I had despite them, and at the coaxing of friends, I chose to go. It was an expense I didn’t budget for and a guaranteed weekend of awkward run-ins. At many points on the way to, during, and immediately after this event, I asked myself what if I didn’t attend this one? I could have paid down my credit card bill, stayed in pjs all weekend and just relaxed. But I didn’t. I would have missed on deepening relationships with new friends, on the adventures we planned – and ultimately went on! All of the happiness, the living! that I did because of my attendance at that event wouldn’t have occurred if I took the option that kept me at home comfortably avoiding ONE person. A resounding “hell yes, I’m glad I went!” And gratitude beyond belief for everything I experienced as a result.

Again, I’m sure I could come up with many more anecdotes from my life to illustrate the point here. But I’ll leave it at three, and one final glimpse into the inner workings of my brain.

Before actively engaging myself in this new method of not looking back and what-iffing myself to oblivion, I mentally listed out the choices I had and their potential outcomes. Constantly question and be stuck, never trusting myself and my choices. Always wonder what if and end up repeating old patterns, with the same people, trying to change the outcomes but never actually learning or growing. Be decisive and accept consequences – good or bad – and learn from both. Grow with each confident step toward the future, looking back only to reflect and remember how far I’ve come and how much further there is to go. Forward.

When that short list was complete, I realized, I couldn’t live with the outcome or myself if I had opted to continue looking backward, second-guessing.

I would hate to wonder, some day in the future, what my life might have been if I hand’t prevented myself from getting stuck in reverse. And so, I won’t.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

In addition to her philanthropy-focused career, she has volunteered with art, historical, and community organizations, and even the events team of a local brewery for a while, pre-pandemic.

To access additional articles by Kitchie Ohh, please click here: https://tonyward.com/kitchie-ohh-that-sounds-like-a-you-problem/

Kitchie Ohh: That Sounds Like a You Problem

Fetish model and writer Kitchie Ohh striking a pose for Tony Ward Studio — Kitchie Ohh. Photo: Victor Devilbliss, Copyright 2023

Photography: Victor Devilbliss

Hair / Makeup: Charlie Leanna Murphy

That Sounds Like a You Problem

Apologies in advance that this whole topic may sound like a brag, but this subject has come up many times in my life and an alarming number of times over the past few months. While I am not surprised by it anymore, I am – each and every time – genuinely confused as to why it’s brought up at all. The topic? Being told I am intimidating, scary, frightening, terrifying, or something along similar lines.

Excuse me…WHAT?? I do believe you have this backward. I am not actively or intentionally doing a damn thing to create this reaction in you. You are scared. You are intimidated. You are frighted. You are terrified. What do you hope to gain by bringing this to my attention? If my existence and the way I present myself, personally or professionally, causes this reaction, know that I won’t be changing a thing to make you feel more comfortable. And I’m not sorry that I’m not sorry.

Ok a small backtrack is needed. If something I am doing is hurtful, offensive or insulting, please bring that to my attention. It is unintentional. I will apologize and I will do my best to change that behavior. However, for everything else…see above.

If you’ve read some of my earlier posts here on this blog, you know I’ve gone through some stuff. If you haven’t, the short version is years of bullying with internalized feelings and lasting effects that have only recently started to fade as I discover and love myself. This is what makes being told I’m “scary” is just so hard to comprehend. I would never want to intentionally make someone feel afraid. Now I know that sometimes this is said as a joke or a compliment of sorts. But I don’t understand it, and even more, I don’t like it. It’s not flattering.

Granted in the earliest instances I can remember, I probably didn’t handle it in the best way. “I used to think you were the biggest bitch, like I couldn’t even talk to you because you just looked like it, ya know?” Umm no, I don’t know. So, you only think I’m kind of a bitch now, or… {shrug} I don’t think I need to spell out that we did not become best friends, or ever speak again after that interaction. Which, occurred on the last full school day of high school. It still makes me laugh, teen angst at its peak.

Into adulthood, it didn’t get better. Honestly, the frequency has increased, especially since leaning into my modeling interest and growing in self-confidence, but my reaction has improved. On multiple occasions, I’ve received messages from female friends telling me that a male they know contacted them about me stating interest but also being afraid to approach directly. They needed an “in” or encouragement from my friend to ease their intimidation before approaching me. The “Me” they were scared of didn’t even exist, though they tried quite hard to convince themselves – and me – she did when they finally got up the nerve to speak to me. This disparity only proves that the fear or intimidation felt was entirely of their own making. The real me, the non-burlesque dancer, non-gamer, yes I am actually staying in to knit a sweater while wearing flannel pajamas on Friday night me, politely turned down their date offers. With zero regrets and no sarcastic comments. (Seriously, I’d love to know how they even came up with their ideas about who I “really” am!)

In my professional life is where the scary nonsense has appeared most recently. In just three short months of my new job role, it has been suggested no less than a dozen times. Only once warranted in a non-work-related conversation about an incident with my dog. I suppose I can understand, since my dog is my baby and how very dare anyone or anything hurt him and not expect me to be scary! But all other instances were related to something in the office getting done quicker, better, or just differently than expected because the other person must be scared of me. For the record, not a single individual at my workplace has come forward to admit being afraid of or intimidated by me. Yet the conversations about how they “must be afraid of me” persists. Apparently, intimidation is the only logical explanation for successful collaboration.

The old me would take it to heart anytime it was even remotely suggested. My immediate reaction would be to prove the person wrong. I would self-deprecate to the point of embarrassment, do overly nice things even if entirely inconvenient and not remotely what I wanted to do. I would bend over backward to be the smaller, nicer, more palatable version that was wanted. Honestly, this never resulted in anything good for me. It took a very long time to stop and get to my current feeling about it, and there’s no going back.

I know I am a good person, self-sufficient, hardworking. I am confident in who I am. I’m talented, responsible, reliable, trustworthy, and generally have all of my proverbial shit together. Sometimes I’m loud, and dramatic, and absolutely ridiculous. I am extremely self-aware and have learned how to use my own self-described “fun little quirks” that help me function on a daily basis to be more understanding and patient with others. I own it. I am it, all of it. And I refuse to change a thing about me to make anyone feel better about themselves, or better than me.

I can see how telling me, or anyone, that they’re intimidating could be well-intentioned. But I argue that it can be said in so many different, more positive ways; ways that don’t seem to be saying change is needed. Intimidation and fear are not generally viewed as good things. This is likely why it’s rarely “I’m intimidated by you,” because expressing it this way shows I – the subject – am having the feeling. “You’re intimidating” puts the blame elsewhere – someone else is making you feel it. Follow me? It’s just another way of not accepting responsibility. And that is a giant pet peeve of mine, if you haven’t guessed by now.

Kitchie Ohh strikes a pose in a sheer negligee — Kitchie Ohh. Photo: Victor Devilbliss, COPYRIGHT 2023

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

In addition to her philanthropy-focused career, she has volunteered with art, historical, and community organizations, and even the events team of a local brewery for a while, pre-pandemic.

To access additional articles by Kitchie Ohh, please click here: https://tonyward.com/kitchie-ohh-universal-rules/