Just the latest in a long line of labels Christians have given me.
Cheap Woman? Alrighty then, if that’s the game we’re playing. I would rather be a cheap woman known for my love, than an abusive man touting religious superiority.
Cheap woman? I didn’t know I was for sale. But I would prefer being a cheap woman instead of a man who costs people their sanity and safety in the name of Christ.
Cheap woman? That’s a fascinating claim made by a Christian who preaches finding self-worth in God alone – a God who valued me enough to die for me, apparently.
Cheap woman? Your accusations speak volumes about your character and nothing about mine. Oppressor, abuser, liar, thief – ringing in the air.
Cheap woman? Your effort spent defaming me says otherwise. You’re willing to pay a high price, your very life – exchanging time and peace of mind for the bitterness slowly poisoning you.
Cheap woman? Hating me is expensive. You save space for me in so many of your thoughts and ways.
Cheap woman? At least it doesn’t cost enormous levels of perseverance just to withstand my presence. I’ll take “cheap” any day over “costly to be around”.
Cheap woman? I’m relieved to hear I don’t have the admiration of a person like you. That would terrify me. I’ll take your disdain over your praise.
Cheap woman? Long have women been labeled as such so men could avoid reckoning with their own shortcomings.
If an Evangelical man can’t control a woman, she is “cheap”. If he can’t destroy her, he must dismiss her. If he can’t use her, he will abuse her – all the while believing God is on his side.
Cheap women are women patriarchal men don’t know what to do with. I’m proud to be counted in those ranks. I must be doing something right.