If I were truly empowered, I would run away from home and never come back. No, I could come back with a gun. No, I would come back with a run and flamingo-pink high heels, because I am empowered. To find myself. To say any outrageous--to do any outrageous thing whatsoever, without regret, or conscience.
See, that's the bad part, thought Suzy. Regret--who needs it? Just say "better luck next time" and move on. But to be without conscience?
To be truly empowered, then, was to deserve to be shot down like a dog. And what about envy? If being fully empowered means you never feel envy, you can shove it up your ass and garnish it with a tomato-skin rose.
"I want to be someone else," Suzy said as she looked in the mirror. "Not fully empowered. Just a little more powered." Then she pinched the fat roll around her waist and decided to go on a diet.
Empowered people can deprive themselves, she thought. They have that power too.