TALK ABOUT MANIFESTING…they hadn’t yet come out with the action figure when I was first called a “Cat Lady.” Besides, at 23, I was hardly the poster child for “a cultural archetype most often depicted as a woman, a middle-aged or elderly spinster, who has many cats.” I was young and dancing to the beat of some wicked good 80s music, just being me, coloring a little outside of the lines. And I only had one cat.
Truth be told, back then I thought “Cat Lady” was a term of endearment — sweet, soft, cuddly — not a derisive comment meant to make me feel less valid or valuable. Crazy, even; abnormal and somehow unable to abide by cultural expectations.
Poor Cat Lady. She always gets a bum rap. No one ever makes fun of Ernest Hemingway, whose Key West home was filled with cats — and he of a…
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