Built of Spite and Bone

Photo by the lovely Madelyne Gilbert

Some people heal.
Some people journal.
And some people eat their enemies.

Not out of bitterness, though, let’s not pretend bitterness doesn’t have its uses, but out of necessity. Out of a very specific kind of hunger. The kind you get when you’ve been dismissed too many times. When you’ve watched someone less thoughtful, less you, slide right into the space you showed them and take it from you. The kind that simmers quietly beneath your ribs, turning every rejection letter, every passive-aggressive email, every offhanded “you sure you’re qualified?” into a slow roast of potential energy.

This is not a story about peace. This is not about walking away better, brighter, or blessed. This is about turning the insult into fuel. The slight into steel. The enemy, metaphorical or otherwise, into meat. Why? Because fuck’em.

Because at some point, you realize you’re not going to be loved into becoming who you’re meant to be. You’re going to have to claw your way there, teeth first.

“Eat your enemies” isn’t advice. It’s a strategy. You take what they gave you, the sabotage, the indifference, the thinly veiled condescension, and you swallow it whole. You digest it. You break it down into iron and calcium and spine. You use their doubt to strengthen your steps. You use their absence to deepen your focus. You use their name as seasoning.

This isn’t about becoming cruel. It’s about becoming complete.

There’s a tendency to romanticize struggle, as if it comes with built-in nobility. But sometimes, struggle just leaves you tired. Bitter. Hollowed out. You don’t need another empty affirmation. You need a fork. You need a fire. You need to accept that there are people in this world who will not celebrate you, who will not help you, who will look you up and down and see nothing of value and that their failure to see you has no bearing on your worth. Except when you make it so.

Because if you let it, their doubt can become your discipline. Their dismissal can become your blueprint. Their silence can become the sound you work against, every single day. Not for them. For you. You take their expectations and grind them down until they’re unrecognizable, until they’re ash in your mouth and fuel in your bloodstream. Until you’re not just succeeding despite them, you’re succeeding because of them.

You want to be the bigger person? Fine. Just don’t mistake that for being smaller than you are. Don't shrink to fit someone else's limited imagination. Grow teeth. Grow armor. Grow into the version of yourself that no longer needs permission to exist loudly.

Let them underestimate you. Let them look away. Let them sit at their little tables and have their little talks and give their little awards to each other. You’ll be at your own table, carving meat from myth and turning every insult into protein.

You don’t have to make peace with everything. Some things are meant to be devoured.

So eat.