If you've seen Mean Girls, then I don't have to tell you what kind of person a "Regina George Mom" is. I probably don't even have to tell you what I want to say to the Regina George Moms of the world, because the same questions probably run through your mind every time you find yourself in the presence of such a formidable figure.
If you haven't seen Mean Girls, OMG are you kidding me? You've had 13 years of pop culture references to compel you to get in on the joke. The movie, for those who don't know, is hysterical. Seriously, put this article aside and go watch the movie. Then come back and understand this list on a deeper level. But seriously, if you can't, for some weird reason, drop whatever you're doing to watch a 13-year-old movie, you can still appreciate what I'm going for here. In the end, for better or worse, everyone knows a Regina George; the supreme among the titular mean girls.
Regina George is every beautiful, manipulative, dramatic, mean-spirited, back-stabbing, self-assured Queen Bee you've ever known. Pop culture often depicts individuals of this nature in high school, but they often don't change their stripes (or lose their stingers) once they get their diplomas. So, yes, more often than not the Regina Georges of the world retain all those "qualities" that made them so frustrating as teenagers. And, yes, lots of them are moms.
Once a Regina George becomes a Regina George Mom (RGM), not much changes except that her children rank among the pawns in her games of social advancement. That's not to say she's an unloving mother — she probably loves her children very much — but she will use anything and anyone she can to assert her superiority. If asserting herself as above you means she has to emotionally crush you beneath the weight of her fabulous shoes, she will not wince.
I promise you, and I have a body of work to support this assertion, I do not make a habit of stoking the flames of discord between mothers. After all, there is far more that unites than divides us, and I'm a firm believer in the fact that mothers coming together with their unique experiences, talents, and ideas makes us all better people and parents.
Having said that, some people are just miserable. No amount of good will, kumbaya hippie magic, zen compassion, or acceptance is going to make them not miserable or make you feel completely chill about how horrible they are. Still, we're adults and we're polite, so we keep our negative thoughts and feelings to ourselves. Or, you know, among only the closest of our friends after a bottle of wine (come on: we're human, too).
"WTF?"
Regina, girl, you boggle my damn mind, and I mean that in pretty much any way one can. I find you confusing, intriguing, loathsome, pitiable, enviable, aggravating, and not at all worth my time all at once. What is your deal? Why do you draw people to you in some way or another, even as you make everyone feel insecure, belittled, and miserable? Is this how serial killers lure in their prey?
"How Does This Make You Happy?"
Honestly, you always seem to be embroiled in drama and mad at someone. You make your displeasure known — loudly, if passive aggressively. I refuse to believe for one damn minute that you are not the drama's primary instigator. After all, I know you, Regina. I've watched you in your many forms my entire life, be you Nicole in first grade or Jackie in the pick-up line at school. You can say you're "so not into drama" all you want, but ducklings don't follow their mother as closely as drama follows you, so I know you have to be luring it. One would therefore imagine it makes you happy, but how? Is it that it makes you happy or are you just lost without it?
"Aren't You Exhausted By All This?"
Even if all the drama does make you happy, I can't imagine these constant machinations, even to your own end, bring you any amount of joy that is measurable to the efforts you put in.
"Do You Actually Think Of Your Friends As Friends?"
It seems as though your friends are the people who are vying to be as like you as possible. It seems like you're keeping your enemies closer than your friends, but when you claim your enemies are your friends, is there room for friends? Or are your enemies so close they actually become your friends? This is all tremendously confusing, Regina.
"Can You Please Stop Competing Through Your Children?"
We all know you do it and, at some point we may have even caught ourselves playing your game. But for real: your kids are, hopefully, going to be their own person. They're not extensions of you or yet another outlet through which you can assert your social status. So please stop making them dress the way you'd want them to dress and play the sports you want them to play and only socialize with the kids of families you have deemed worthy. Please just let them be kids.
"Isn't There A Better Outlet For All This Energy?"
I have to imagine your organizational skills, ambition, and natural charisma would be so well-suited to any number of positive careers, activities, and volunteer opportunities. Wouldn't you rather direct all this toward something positive.
Of course, many a Regina George Mom is also the president of the PTA or some other committee at your kids school and winds up making the whole affair just another outlet for one of her crazy, self-serving, glory games the likes of which make the writing staff of Game of Thrones take note. So maybe encouraging this will only make things worse. Maybe some people are so truly toxic that everything they touch turns to drama.
"We All See Through Your Social Media Posts"
From humble brags to vaguebooking to the not-so-subtle digs in the comments of other people's pictures, stop. Social media is terrible enough without your shenanigans.
"Would You Like One Of My Swedish Nutrition Bars?"
Mmmm! These Kälteen Bars are so yummy and they make you so skinny. They just burn up all your carbs. It's just like it says on the label: "Gå upp i vikt," which I believe is Swedish for, "Drop pounds and get happy!"
"Seriously, WTF?"
I want to understand you, but at the same time I'm terrified of what would happen to a normal, healthy human mind if it did. I'm in a perpetual state of maddening ambivalence. Damnit, Regina George Mom! What makes you tick?! Why do you do what you do?!
"Can We Talk?"
OK. Seriously, though. I know that some people are just always going to be obnoxious and no amount of kindness is going to change them, but I would be an ass if I didn't attempt offer you some measure of humanity.
Look, I'm not going to play your games. I'm not going to go out of my way to try to reform you of your mean girl ways. In fact, I will give you as wide a berth as possible while remaining polite. However, I will make this open offer:
I don't hate you. In fact, I feel like there must be something going on that makes you do the things you do and maybe it's painful and something you can overcome. So if you ever feel like you want to talk about that, I'm available.
"Why Did You Tell Everyone I Made Out With A Hot Dog?
(Seriously, guys, if you don't get it you really have to go watch the movie.)
