Meet Wanda (My Inner Sass with No Filter and Zero Regrets) @@

Meet my unfiltered alter ego who’s been waiting 50-plus years to speak her mind.

We all have that little voice in our heads—the one that whispers, “Don’t say it… don’t say it… you said it.”

You know the one.

She’s sarcastic, sharp, deeply unimpressed, and usually right.

She’s the part of you that wants to correct the group text, roll your eyes in meetings, and ask people where exactly they lost their common sense.

Most people keep her quiet.

I gave mine a name.

Her name is Wanda.

Why Wanda? Because of Wanda Sykes, of course. Years ago, I saw a promo for one of her shows, and it’s lived rent-free in my head ever since.

She walks up behind a man, smacks him on the back of the head, and says, “Jackass.”

He turns around, blinks, and replies, “You know, you really should stop, think, and then speak.”

Wanda pauses. Tilts her head to one side. Tilts it the other. Then smacks him again and says, “Yep. Still jackass.”

That was it. I was sold.

From that day on, I knew exactly what to call the part of me that shows up when someone crosses a line, acts a fool, or just… deserves it.

Because let’s be honest—there are plenty of moments when Tami holds her tongue. But Wanda? Wanda doesn’t hold anything. She’s stopped. She’s thought about it. And she’s still gonna say it.

---

The Birth of My Alter Ego

Tami is polite. Tami says “no worries,” even when there are worries. Tami double-checks her tone in emails and says “Have a good day!” even when she might not mean it.

But Wanda? Wanda rolls her eyes out loud. Wanda doesn’t do passive-aggressive. Wanda does direct—with good intentions and a tongue sharp enough to slice through the nonsense.

For years, I kept Wanda at bay. I told myself to be nice. Keep the peace. Smile through it. Let that comment slide. Don’t start anything. Don’t make waves.

But here’s the thing: I’m older now. I’ve earned the right to stop shrinking.

Why Wanda Matters

She’s not rude. She’s real.

Wanda doesn’t throw punches—she throws perspective. She doesn’t create chaos—she calls it out. And she’s not mean—she’s just done apologizing for taking up space.

Wanda is the part of me that stopped waiting for permission.

She says what I used to journal about. She speaks up in the moment instead of in the shower three days later. She’s the voice that says, “Enough,” when I’ve spent a lifetime saying, “It’s fine.”

And she shows up just about anywhere.

At work? Wanda may clock in when the meeting could've been an email.

In rush hour traffic? Oh, she's in the passenger seat, muttering things you can't say with your windows down.

At home? Well, that depends. It usually starts when someone says something so wildly out-of-touch that I tilt my head like a confused golden retriever and ask, “Did you really just say that?”

That’s when Wanda stretches her neck, steps forward, and gets to work.

Wanda is not about rage—she’s about clarity. She’s not unkind—she’s unfiltered. And at this point in life, when I’ve walked through decades of lessons, heartbreak, growth, and grit, I need her.

I need her to remind me that boundaries are not bad behavior. Honesty is not hostility. Confidence is not cocky.

She shows up for me—when I forget who I am. When I shrink. When I second-guess. When I almost let someone rewrite my story. Wanda doesn’t edit. She highlights.

And maybe that’s the lesson here: we don’t need to erase the bold parts of ourselves just to make others more comfortable.

Because sometimes, after we’ve stopped and thought about it…

Yep.

Still jackass.

If you’ve got a Wanda of your own, I hope you’re finally letting her speak.

---

📌 Quote of the Day

“Wanda doesn’t edit. She highlights.”

Leave a comment