Don’t Call Me Cute

A puppy is cute. Babies are cute. An outfit can be cute, polka-dot nail polish is cute, miniature ponies are cute. And what about a picture of two otters holding hands while sleeping?

Cute, cute, cute, cute, CUTE!

But me?

I am not cute.

The things I say I are not cute.

My opinions and feelings, my world views, those crazy little idiosyncrasies that make me me are not cute.

I am a strong and powerful human being, complex and unafraid. That sentence I just uttered, the one you called cute? That is the product of 20+ years of experiences and original thoughts in the making. It’s not some adorable naiveté peeking out for a condescending pat on the head.

Now, I do know why you want to put me in the cute category. It’s tidy isn’t it? It’s easier for you to deal with. Less sticky with fewer consequences then taking me seriously.

“Oh, listen to her ramble on. She’s so cute.”

Yeah. I see you there. Thinking that you’re the only voice that matters in this conversation. But guess what? I long since peeled that “cute” label right off me. You just haven’t been paying attention.

Instead, call me curious. Passionate. Call me kind. Call me feisty or intelligent. Call me sentimental or funny.  Recognize that I’m the descendent of kick-ass men and women who lit a spark of confidence deep in my soul and that there is no single word in this universe that can fully encompass all that is me.

You still want to place me in some tidy, unimportant little category?

Well, isn’t that cute.