Unless you’ve been living under a pop-culture-deprived rock (if so, where and can I join you?), you know all about BDE. A quick refresher, anyway, in case you forgot: Big Dick Energy and its beloved acronym first showed up on the OG creator of shorthand, Twitter, circa June 2018, then took off when New York Magazine’s The Cut used the term to describe Pete Davidson’s cock-induced swagger.

“BDE is a quiet confidence and ease with oneself that comes from knowing you have an enormous penis and you know what to do with it,” writer Allison P. David explained in the article. “It’s not cockiness, it’s not a power trip—it’s the opposite: a healthy, satisfied, low-key way you feel yourself.”

Women, obviously, can’t have BDE—at least not in the literal sense. The reality is, there’s no true equivalent, either, like Tight P*ssy Power or Big Boob Energy. In this society of double standards (eff the patriarchy!), those labels are objectifying and strip the very thing they’re hoping to exude (dominance).

Which is why when I discovered an entirely new source of “quiet confidence and ease,” I knew I had to share it. This type has nothing to do with penises but everything to do with another piece of typically male-owned property. World, meet BTE: Big Truck Energy.

Big Truck Energy (BTE): The confidence and sense of empowerment that comes from driving a huge pickup—or channeling the equivalent.

Before you @ me for being a gas-guzzling, confused city girl (which, FWIW, I kinda am), let me explain.

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of going on a short getaway to Greenport, a cute seaport on the North Fork of Long Island, New York. The itinerary included fishing, a winery visit, and stargazing on the beach—three activities that bring me that perfect blend of peace and joy. But the real power of the trip ended up having nothing to do with the events. It was the transformative feeling that came over me while driving the giant, decked-out 2020 pickup truck that I borrowed from GMC for the weekend.

It took all but 10 minutes—about the time it took to pull out of the midtown garage and onto a moving Manhattan street—to transition from nervous AF to 100-percent *that bitch*. Between hopping into the truck like I would mount a horse (mine was lifted an extra two sexy inches), towering over lanes of taxis, Camry’s, and Accords (a.k.a. every Uber in NYC), eyeing the spacious, carbon truck bed in my rearview mirror, and getting all kinds of surprised looks and comments from sidewalk bystanders (“Didn’t expect to see you hop out of that!“), I felt like a different person. A better person. A cooler, more confident, less cautious version of myself.

It couldn’t have come at a better time. A near year-long situationship that I thought was finally going somewhere had just, to use an auto-related euphemism, crashed and burned, and I was crushed. All the usual self-doubting questions swirled around in my head on repeat: What did I do wrong? Is there someone else? And the worst of all: Why wasn’t I enough?

But as I drove the two-ish hours from the city to Greenport, something started shifting in my brain. I was sad, sure—after all, I’d fallen for a guy for the first time after an eight-year, on-again/off-again relationship, and I’d finally let myself get excited about it. But I wasn’t stressed or anxious, like I had been for days. Somehow, driving that truck gave me a sense of control and self-assuredness, two things I definitely didn’t have even hours earlier. As the weekend went on and the reality of the situation hit me harder, I was surprised how quickly hopping back into the truck helped me, quite literally, dry my tears.

In the words of Carrie Bradshaw (on a concept that is admittedly so un-Carrie Bradshaw), I couldn’t help but wonder: Is it possible that just driving a truck can work such magic on your soul? Could BTE be…real?

In short: yes. There’s a concept in fashion psychology (yeah, that’s a thing) called enclothed cognition, which describes the phenomenon that happens when a person wears clothes that are designed for a certain purpose. Research shows that a doctor becomes more attentive when they wear a lab coat, much like wearing high-quality workout gear can subconsciously motivate you to go harder at the gym.

I know driving a vehicle isn’t the same as wearing an outfit…but in my opinion, it’s even more enabling—if it weren’t, cars wouldn’t be the status symbol that they are today. And let’s be honest: Trucks are bad-freaking-ass. You can trailor with them, tailgate with them (especially this one, it had a built-in outdoor speaker), haul anything and everything with them, sleep in them, and have some really fun car sex in them. (I didn’t get that far, but every country song leads to me to believe that…)

There’s also the fact that driving a big truck gives off its own body language on the road. Think about it: Experts say that standing or leaning over someone is an assertion of power, which helps explain why there are stages for keynote speakers and podiums for professors, and could explain why shorter people often feel intimidated by taller peers. By extension, a lifted truck should then be a guaranteed power pose for the person maneuvering it. I know no one tried to cut me off when I flew down the Long Island Expressway in my Sierra, and that was certainly a first.

Now, I know I’m just taking a bunch of theories and throwing them together to draw conclusions, because that’s what women do. But for the sake of real news, I also asked licensed psychologist Seth Gillihan, PhD, for his expert opinion, to see if I was crazy. Turns out, I’m totally not (at least not about this).

“Trucks are large and wide, and settling into them involves a more spread-out position that encourages you to feel unapologetic for the space you take up,” Gillihan says. “But they’re also seen as strong, tough, no nonsense, and in charge. As such, you feel powerful in the driver’s seat.”

What’s more, he adds, “while some might be concerned that the feelings of power are false in some way—put on from the outside rather than grounded in one’s being—our vehicles can also remind us of our inner strength and toughness. That can stay with us even after we’ve gone back to our Prius or minivan.” (Or in my case, the subway.)

That explains my BTE in a nutshell. It wasn’t just the sense of being literally elevated, it was the realization that if I got into an accident—if I swerved a little in the wrong direction, slammed on the brakes, or crashed and burned all over again, I’d be just fine. Physically, yes, but emotionally, too, because I am strong and fierce and grounded and everything that a big shiny truck is at its core. As a writer, I’m a sucker for a good metaphor, and this one stuck with me.

Of course, renting (or ya know, buying) a huge, souped-up truck might not be all that practical for you. No worries! The key is to find your own version of BTE, and channel it as often as you want or need.

“The best thing about BTE is that you don’t have to have a certain body part to tap into it—you just need to find the ‘truck’ that’ll help you reveal your inner badass.”

Maybe it’s rocking a pair of studded combat boots that are nothing like any shoes you’ve worn before. Maybe it’s getting the secret nipple piercing you’ve thought about for years. Maybe it’s something as extensive as learning a hard-core hobby, like clay shooting or SCUBA diving, or as simple as swiping on a sultry dark lipstick before work. It really doesn’t matter. The best thing about BTE is that you don’t have to have a certain body part to tap into it—you just need to find the “truck” that’ll help you reveal your inner badass.

As for me, I didn’t lose all my BTE once I reluctantly handed the keys back. Instead of wondering, Why wasn’t I enough? now I think, Maybe I was too much.

If that’s the case, cool. I’ll save my energy for someone who’s interested in being my ride or die, not just a temporary passenger.

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