by Teri Katzenberger
Growing up, my limited thinking would always tell me that a Bad Ass Woman was a female who was hard, vulgar, mean, manly and just plain rude; BAD. A person other females could not approach. Over the years, when women call themselves a Bad Ass or use “that” term in their work, business names etc…I would think, “why would they want to refer to themselves “that” way? BAD?
After some self-reflection I realized that my own “worlds view” of a Bad Ass woman was not at all what I had ever been taught, thought and assumed. You see, I never really met a “bad ass” woman. Only BAD women.
A Bad Ass woman is confident in who she is. It’s not the kind of confidence that is all up in your face. It’s not arrogant, intimidation nor a pretense of bravery. Her confidence is quiet and real confidence. It comes natural for her; to her. A bad ass woman is confident in her ability and know-how. In her Why. Why she was created for this thing called life. Her confident, courageous ability to be who God created her to be, regardless!
I married a monster when I was 19. He was 25 year old. Innocent, kind, heart full of love Teri, married one of the devil’s men. I felt trapped. I was broken. He beat me down physically, mentally and verbally every day. He had me believing I was crazy. “No one likes you. Your family hates you. People don’t like listening to you. People don’t like being around you. Our friends think you’re weird. They hate your stories”. I don’t know what damaged me more, the hard hurtful words or the physical abuse, hitting, pulling my hair out of my head, black eyes.
I married a man who liked me drunk so he could rape me. If I passed out and he was in “the mood” he would have his way with me.
Every day of my life in the hell house, I prayed to God; “If I make it one more year, I promise I will leave.” I always made my promise…I never left. I waited for my Savior to knock on the door and Save Me. April 4, 1991 that day finally came. I entered a treatment hospital for alcohol and drug addiction – my coping mechanisms were now killing me. 1991 forward, I was alone. I was lost. I was broken. But I was clean and sober. I was free from that hell house and the monster. I was finally Free To Be Me!
The next 30 years I had to learn how to live my life. Learn how to just be me. Learn what this thing called life is all about. People would be surprised to know; I have always felt there isn’t much about me – there isn’t much about my life that really matters to anyone. I know that isn’t true. However, it doesn’t mean I don’t “feel” it. It doesn’t mean I don’t “sense” it.
It ain’t easy being me. This thing called life has kicked my ass a time or two. Or three. Or four. The truth is, I was born a Bad Ass. Regardless of hatred and discontent. Regardless of being for me or against me. I refuse to quit. I refuse to give in. I refuse to give up. On me!
I am a beautiful daughter the Most High King! I now sponsor and mentor women in recovery. I became the female ministry leader for Celebrate Recovery in my city.
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