After I’d written yesterday’s blog post, I felt bad. Lying in bed that night, I realised that what I had done is exactly what Jan Moir did to Katherine Jenkins, I picked apart another woman because of my dislike for her. I was personal, attacking her looks and her size (and her ability to run a bath…and a marathon) and that’s not nice, even if she did deserve it.
I also regretted my title, well sort of. If you knew me you’d read the title with a smile on your face, hearing me say it. You see, I use this word often, in a jokey sense, usually when it’s completely inaccurate or unnecessary – “that Mother Theresa, what a bitch.” You see what I did there, she is obviously not a bitch, she is the complete opposite, that’s why it’s funny (well to me anyway – and to my Dad, he finds it hilarious as well). It’s almost a term of endearment. While Jan Moir is definitely not Mother Theresa and I didn’t call her a bitch as a term of endearment, I also didn’t mean it as absolute as it sounded. It was meant to be funny. But realising that you reading this, would not know that, made me feel really mean.
In hindsight, I wish I’d have written a more intelligent piece looking at why, psychologically, Jan Moir felt the need to pull apart another woman to the nation. Did it make her feel better about herself? Did she feel any guilt? Did she enjoy the fuss that it caused? Did it make her feel important? I wish I could have found compassion for her, been more understanding about why she feels the way she feels and why she thinks it’s OK to write the things she writes. Instead, I lowered myself to the lowest level of writing, the same way that she writes (sigh).
So there you go, I don’t really like Jan Moir but then I don’t know here either. I have based my opinion of her on one article and a blog post by Stephen Fry (well if Stephen Fry said it, it must be right). While I still agree with everything else I said, she did sound mean…and jealous, that’s her prerogative and I don’t have to like it but I also never have to read another of her articles again. And going forward, I can make sure that what I write has purpose and reason, that it comes from a good place and isn’t clouded by prejudice or judgement. I don’t want to spend my time judging others, rather I strive to understand myself more and be the best person that I can be.
I think that’s enough talk of Jan Moir for one lifetime, onwards and upwards and all that. I tell you what though, I do regret sending yesterday’s blog post to the Daily Mail, Jan Moir’s employer. I’m not sure they’ll be best pleased receiving an article entitled “Jan Moir, what a bitch…” you see they don’t know me either, oops.