I don’t mean a simple disagreement when I use the title word. This isn’t something like, Damn, she left the top off the tomato paste tube and it dried out so now I can’t make sauce, type of discussion. It’s not even the desire to leave a nasty note on the windshield of the car parked just a bit too close to your driver’s side door when you come out of the Target store. It definitely isn’t the passing thought that it might be more powerful to hang around and actually confront the driver of that vehicle. God knows what might happen if you choose that option.

I am speaking of a confrontation whereby I had The Power and whereby I Spoke Out over stupidity and childish anger, and cowardice. I am speaking of a confrontation where only I spoke and where I would not tolerate words from the other side, because this was NOT a discussion. It was not a mutual give and take of ideas and thoughts and problem solving methods. This short moment, all 45 seconds of it, was all about my need to win, to call out the other person, to show that I didn’t give a flying f**k how they felt, just as they didn’t stop to think how their actions and words would feel to someone innocent and standing on the fringes – inside, but wanting to be outside this ridiculous place called home.

I don’t often set out to be so bold, to speak with such clear, calm precise words and fully ignore how and where those words will land. There is no benefit to that act. The time for words and understanding has long passed in this case.

Today however, the words were absolute. The words were imperative. The words were voiced directly from a mother who would kill to protect a child; her child, even when that child is an adult. Nothing, and no person, will ever come between my instinct to stand up and be heard when it involves one of my children.

Today, for the first time in such a very long time, I felt empowered. I felt like the woman who has been lost for so very long. Today, the strength that has been hidden away emerged when I needed it.

Today was a first step and I feel alive.


2 thoughts on “Confrontation”

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