The Case of the Female Hater: Why They Say We’re Jealous, Bitter, and Mad When We’re Just Paying Attention
The importance of unfiltered rage in womanhood
I. Introduction — She Must Be Mad
“She’s just bitter.”
“She’s obsessed.”
“She’s jealous.”
We’ve heard these all before.
Whenever it’s time to discredit a woman in the court of public opinion, society always reaches for the same trite, gendered ad hominem attacks. This is especially true when she’s a woman who dares to challenge male power. One who speaks out against mistreatment, sets a boundary, warns others, and walks away with her dignity intact.
The high profile case of Amber Heard vs Johnny Depp amplified this quietly understood truth: when a woman threatens to expose the machinations of male violence, she becomes fair game for destruction. Depp’s PR team openly admitted to fueling a misogynistic smear campaign—an elaborate DARVO operation to reframe Heard as the aggressor. Bots were deployed. Influencers were paid. A network of sleazy journalists greased the wheels. Yet, despite this wide and varied use of tactical online warfare, what secured the success of the campaign was not just a coordinated attack—but a culture of complicity. A culture of men and women that harbour a latent animosity towards female victims.
It’s a silencing tactic, nothing more, nothing less.
Because acknowledging female victimhood—how commonplace it is, how pervasive—would implicate too many men and terrify too many women. Men don’t want to be confronted with the harm they’ve caused. Women don’t want to live in fear of how close they’ve come to harm themselves—or worse yet, how much harm they have already endured, buried, denied.
By recasting victim into the role of villain, society gains a convenient scapegoat. The public gets to offload its discomfort, its complicity, and its cowardice onto a woman made into a cautionary tale. Then they can retreat, arm in arm, into the fragile illusions that shield them from reality.
This piece is here to tear those illusions down.
We’re going to excavate the bodies of the women who were buried—those who saw too much, knew how to voice it, and dared not to stay silent. We’ll trace the ways their rage was pathologised, their clarity dismissed, and their truth-telling rebranded as madness—especially when said emotions threatened a man’s constructed self-image.
II. A History of Heresy: The Emotional Woman as the Villain
Let’s talk about Bertha Mason—the archetypal “Madwoman in the Attic.”
Spoiler alert for Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë… though I’d question its utility for a text over 100 years old.
Hardly the first example of a woman maligned after male mistreatment, the narrative handling of Bertha—her “madness”, her imprisonment at the hands of Rochester, and her subsequent anti-climactic death—all carry a social commentary worthy of discussion.
To examine her won’t require an extensive retread of the text, seeing as she is a minor character in the novel (though no less explosively pivotal!) but Bertha is the discarded wife of Rochester, a Creole woman whom he marries during one of his imperial excursions to the Caribbean. From Rochester’s (biased, untrustworthy) recollection, he realised only after marriage that Bertha is “mad” and comes from a similarly “mad” family. After she begins to show signs of inheriting her mother’s mental instability, he returns back to his estate in England and locks her in the attic, keeping her existence a secret until she is uncovered when he attempts to illegally marry Jane.
“Bertha Mason is mad; and she came of a mad family; idiots and maniacs through three generations! Her mother, the Creole, was both a madwoman and a drunkard!—as I found out after I had wed the daughter; for they were silent on family secrets before. Bertha, like a dutiful child, copied her parent in both points. I had a charming partner—pure, wise, modest; you can fancy I was a happy man. I went through rich scenes! Oh! my experience has been heavenly, if you only knew it! But I owe you no further explanation. Briggs, Wood, Mason, I invite you all to come up to the house and visit Mrs. Poole's patient, and my wife! You shall see what sort of a being I was cheated into espousing, and judge whether or not I had a right to break the compact, and seek sympathy with something at least human.”
Note how Rochester’s confession, which amounts to a thinly veiled justification for attempted bigamy, is delivered with sneering moral superiority. It comes off especially incendiary if we are to read what was likely the coding of a woman of colour, under 19th century British standards, being negatively juxtaposed against the purity of a white woman. Unfortunately, the rest of the text does little to disprove Rochester’s point of view with regards to Bertha.
In the deep shade, at the farther end of the room, a figure ran backwards and forwards. What it was, whether beast or human being, one could not, at first sight, tell: it grovelled, seemingly, on all fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal: but it was covered with clothing, and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face.
We see how the text continues to diminish Bertha to being little more than a “beast” or “a wild animal”. There is scant sympathy expressed for how her extended confinement, isolation, and abandonment by her husband may have contributed to the decline of her mental health. She serves as nothing more than an obstacle standing in the way of the redemptive white heterosexual love story. Her only actions thereon are to burn down Rochester’s estate. Good on her, honestly. And then fling herself to her death outside of the window. Even in death, she receives no dignity. Her final action in the story is to erase herself from it, so that the man who abused her can be allowed to take shelter in the arms of another woman.
Though an overly dramatised version of events (not many, I hope, can claim to have had their weddings interrupted by wives held in confinement!) I can’t help but see Bertha as symbolic of how people subconsciously view female victims of male violence—especially when said victims refuse to react in a palatable fashion. If we stay weak and pitiable and broken, then we might get a patronising pat of sympathy and a coo of condolence. But when we disrupt the story, derail the man’s narrative arc, and demand accountability?
That’s when the trouble begins.
Rather than sympathise, they pathologise—we are cast as maniacal, conniving bitches whom everyone silently wishes would simmer down for the sake of other people’s comfort. From the dawn of time, patriarchy has always required the silence of women to preserve the innocence of men. If we express the depth of our pain from being handled poorly, then the problem was never the behaviour at hand, but how we responded to it.
It is this fear of being cast as vindictive, bitter, and crazy that polices women into taking the “high road”. It’s a gag order, thinly veiled as grace, issued under the threat of ostracism. Under these terms, it takes a woman of iron will to speak the unspeakable. Because no one wants to be the Bertha in their own story—abused, discarded, then erased.
But what if we were brave enough to rewrite the ending?
III. What They Call Hate Is Just Pattern Recognition
The truth is men like Rochester need the spectre of the “crazy, bitter” woman as justification for their own misdeeds. Her existence functions as a scare tactic to corral his victims under his control. If Bertha is just “mad” then Jane doesn’t need to look too deeply into the fact that he was determined to forego his marriage vows to con her into an illegitimate union.
It’s classic psychological warfare—and men have been playing by that same handbook for millennia. It is a mistake to assume that men are witless children unaware of their behaviours and impact. If such was the case, then they wouldn’t be able to expertly craft situations to invite plausible deniability, exploit weaknesses, and then plant a false narrative to walk away unscathed.
It is only natural that his confusing, manipulative behaviour might prompt unstable reactions from the woman he is victimising. Actions such as:
Public or private venting
Surveillance and information-gathering
Questioning and interrogating third parties
Documentation to put it all together
Are all reasonable steps a woman might take when she has an inkling but knows she requires hard proof to back up her claims. The unfortunate bind many women face is understanding we are unlikely to be taken at our word alone—especially when the man accused is well-integrated and well-liked in his community—but taking action to document our case, gather proof, and regulate our emotions at the same time is a Sisyphean task that might seep out sideways in unflattering ways.
What these women need—what Bertha needed—was for someone to take her aside to hear her story and give her the benefit of the doubt, rather than blanket condemnation. So the next time you see a man speaking out of turn against a woman behaving erratically, consider reframing your perspective.
See her public venting as a means of emotional self-regulation instead of ‘airing dirty laundry’:
“Why is she still talking about him?” vs. “He did something that fractured her worldview.”
Her surveillance as part of the essential work of case-building rather than an act of malice:
“She’s stalking him.” vs. “She was gaslit and now she’s looking for proof that her reality was real.”
Consider what could be viewed as an obsessive fixation is actually an attempt at metabolising betrayal.
Consider what you’re witnessing is a hurt woman trying to heal.
IV. When You Set a Boundary, They Create a Narrative
The worst offence of these men is that even if you leave the situation—block him, end the relationship, move on—it’s never enough for them to let matters lie. They need to get ahead of the narrative, especially in the event you start talking to others and trying to process your pain.
You see, with men like this it’s never enough to have you silenced. They want you isolated. They want you ridiculed. They want to grind you underneath their boot as a final act of domination until you fulfill your prophecy as a woman unhinged.
Stay vigilant.
Even if you attempt to leave quietly, he might still sow discord behind the scenes. You must assume he will be keeping tabs on you—either directly or via a third party—if you attempt to walk away. The same way you might be compiling evidence on him, he will be doing the same to you. He will track your movements in the aim of crafting a psychological dossier so he can reverse-engineer your truth.
And if he ever does retaliate, it won’t be explosive. It’ll be subtle. He won’t throw punches. He’ll leak narratives.
Here’s what it might look like:
Public narrative-weaving.
He’ll first want to establish a motive that calls your character into question and makes you look petty and vindictive. This is the headline for onlookers, the ones not in the know.
“She wanted me and I rejected her.”
“She’s just mad I moved on.”
“She’s delusional.”
Whispers behind closed doors.
For closer friends and associates, he might express more vulnerability couched in sanctimonious posturing. To make himself appear like the bigger person.
“She has a tendency to spiral.”
“She interprets everything in the worst light.”
“I was trying to help, but she’s very reactive.”
Weaponised empathy.
He will refuse to admit to any wrongdoing and reframe himself as the real victim.
“I tried to be her friend. I cared. But she turned on me.”
Selective leaks.
He might subtly share your private correspondence or conversations with mutual friends—cherry-picked, out of context—to make you look obsessive or unstable, all while positioning himself as magnanimous:
“I don’t want to expose her, I just need to protect myself.”
The real danger? He’ll do all this while pretending he’s over it. He’ll act like you’re the one who’s obsessed, while quietly playing chess five moves ahead. The “female hater” label becomes a smokescreen to obscure his culpability in the breakdown of the relationship.
It’s not enough for him to mistreat you—he also has to rob your ability to grieve from it.
V. The Weaponisation of Female Rivalry
But here’s the rub: he can’t do it alone.
As referenced in the first section of the article, what aids abusers in escaping justice is working in tandem with the community around them to ostracise their victim. Oftentimes, that means weaponising the use of other women through triangulation and fostered competition.
It’s an unfortunate truth that many women will collude with abusers to protect his image when accusations arise. There are many reasons, both psychological and social, why this happens, and I want to explore a couple of them below:
She’s not protecting him, she’s protecting herself
When a man is exposed as an abuser it threatens not only him but the entire social scaffolding on which his community is built. It’s not long before the question of who knows what, and when, and for how long comes to everybody’s lips. One might start to ask themselves:
“What if everyone around him wasn’t an innocent bystander—what if they were also collaborators, enablers, possibly even fellow offenders?”
It’s this question that the complicit woman fears most, and her primary motivation to sweep things under the rug. It’s not so much him she’s protecting as it is herself. Her access. Her image. Her position as the “safe” one in his hierarchy of women. The complicit woman knows who he is, but staying close gives her power by proximity. Not real power, but relational power, the illusion of specialness: “He trusts me. I’m the exception. I’m not like the others.”
Many men foster this exact dynamic: a web of women with varying levels of emotional closeness, all of whom think they’re “chosen” in a unique way. The complicit woman is deeply invested in that illusion. She has to be. Because if she admitted what he was doing to that other woman, she’d have to face what that made her part of. She’d no longer be the “cool girl confidante” who gets to stay above the drama. She’d be a coward who stood by while he hurt someone and kept quiet.
The complicit woman is not evil, but she is dangerous. Because she’s the kind of woman who tells herself she’s doing the right thing while letting other women burn. She sleeps well at night because she’s not the one holding the match—she just refused to warn anyone about the fire.
She thinks the perks outweigh the principles
Abusers are often powerful, well-connected, charismatic. The kind of man that women gravitate towards. So long as you are not the one being targeted, being in his good graces can come with a range of benefits: access, validation, male approval, maybe even low-grade emotional intimacy.
Turning against him would cost her that connection. She’d go from “the reasonable girl he can turn to” to “just another one of the bitter women he ‘couldn’t please.’” And some people would rather torch a woman than lose that illusion of being the exception.
If she’s internalised that male attention equals status or worth, she’ll defend him not because he deserves it, but because her self-concept is hitched to being “the one he trusts, the one who gets him.”
By casting his victim as aggressive, unstable, or “emotional,” she positions herself as the “calm, rational one.” That’s not just tone policing, it’s strategy. It allows her to stay in his good graces while distancing herself from the victim’s legitimate pain without having to confront her own enabling behaviour.
She enjoys the idea of “winning”
If the abuser was relying on triangulation tactics to play the victim against his enabler, then by complying with his smear campaign she gets to re-establish her superior position in the hierarchy. Whether it’s out of jealousy, competition, or codependency, she might even like that she’s now the “preferred” one, especially if she resented the attention and affection the abuser gave to the victim.
She likely thinks she’s winning something. But what she’s winning is attention during the abuser’s emotional off-season, which—let’s be honest—is like winning an umbrella in a hurricane: it looks useful until you realize you’re still getting drenched.
She thinks she’ll be the exception. Now, she’s proving that belief by rewriting the narrative to cast herself as the misunderstood peacekeeper and you as the “emotional aggressor.” But that’s projection wrapped in self-deceit.
The tragedy of women like this is they’ve chosen self-abandonment over sanctuary. Many of them realise too late that the man only ever saw them as a pawn—if they ever realise it at all.
Because this man was never a prize.
He’s not even a consolation. He is nothing more than the physical manifestation of an empty well—one who will demand more of her time, her energy, and her dignity to fill himself, only to come up hollow when she wants something back.
And the longer she’s been in it with him, the harder it is for her to escape. The more she has to delude herself that it was all worth the cost.
VI. The Truth About Rage
Anger has long been considered the exclusive domain of men. It’s not hard to imagine why that might be. Male rage has often been a useful catalyst for the machines of war, of conquest, of capitalism, of bigotry. It can be disruptive, turning over entire societies and systems in its wake. It causes destruction, yes, but it can also bring about change.
For that reason alone, an angry woman can be a threatening one. Especially—when instead of directing it inwards or downwards—she directs said ire towards the men who have hurt her. The reason it unnerves men is because it often means she took her trauma and crystallised it into clarity. She began to recognise her place in the world and its inherent unfairness. And worse yet, she might even start to push back against it.
Rather than crying in the corner and licking her wounds, her rage might embolden her to make a direct declaration of worth:
“I deserved better.”
“You don’t get to do that to me.”
VII. When They Call You Bitter, Say: ‘So What If I Am?’
I encourage women, especially Black women, to embrace their anger. To nurture their bitterness. To go about the world with the kind of ego-driven audacity that powers mediocre men through life. Because these emotions are often a sign that you refused to make peace with mistreatment. You saw your designated position in the world to serve as a pack mule, a social mascot, and a punching bag, and you turned it on its head.
It is my belief that an angry woman is the only woman who can truly be considered free. These are the ones who refuse a state of constant self-surveillance and minimisation to cater to the needs of others. The ones with the bravery to shoulder a woman’s worst insult: to be selfish. Unlikable, even.
Enough so that when people come in hurling insults like bullets, you are able to rebound them with ease:
“I’m bitter? You’re a liar.”
“I’m obsessed? You’re a fraud.”
“I’m crazy? You’re just lucky I can write.”
This is a kind of emotional sovereignty that terrifies people, because it means men don’t get to define your value. Not even by mistreating you. You’re not rebelling for them. You’re opting out of the game entirely.
VIII. Conclusion — The Watchdog, Not the Hater
The world needs its angry, defiant women, try as they might to suppress us and our truths. Our existence serves as proof to women that there is another mode of being. That we don’t have to take disrespect lying down. That we can and should demand better from the men in our lives.
We voice the thoughts that many women cannot bring themselves to articulate.
That’s not to say that the path of a truth-teller cannot come laden with resentment and envy from those who are still bargaining for dignity in the systems that chew them up. But even a lonelier life is still worth it when it’s yours to live as you please.
And that kind of freedom? It can never be understated.
So speak up.
Speak loud.
Tell your truth.
Let them seethe.
Even if you’re not ready to claim your rage, know that it’s waiting for you when you are.
If this piece resonates with you, please consider donating to me on ko-fi. It helps me continue what I do.
If you have thoughts, critiques, and areas you’d like to discuss further, feel free to leave a comment!
I’d love to hear from you.