Wednesday, February 23, 2011

You Wanna Piece of Me?

I am non-confrontational. Exceedingly so. I avoid rocking the boat, making a fuss, causing a stink, being a squeaky wheel. I would rather suffer in silence (or, bitch incessantly to my husband) than mention a problem.

It causes me anxiety. I get all panicky and short of breath and shaky and I get that big lump in my throat that make me feel like I'm trying to talk with a grapefruit stuck in there. GAHHH CAAAHN I PLEEAZZE TAHHHK TO YUUUU? I have a hard time articulating my thoughts. I tear up. I might cry. No, I will cry. I get the hot face.

To avoid confrontations, I am - generally - a really nice person. I try to be helpful and friendly. So when I learn that someone is talking smack about me, my first thought is "Why would anyone not like me? I am really fucking likable!" My second thought is "That really pisses me off!". My third thought is "I can't wait until Sean gets home so I can take it out on him!" Poor guy.

I could take a lesson from my mom.

The other day we were leaving the mall, mom was finishing buckling up Julia. An elderly woman had pulled up behind us, waiting for the spot. She honked.

"Did she just honk?" I said.

Mom replies, "Yes, she did. I think I'll just stand here for awhile."

Now, here is my chance. I can say "Hell YES. Make the old bat wait!" or, I can freak out and hiss "GET IN THE CAR!" What do you think I did? Mom gets in and rolls down her window.

"OMG. What are you going to do? Are you going to flip her off?"


"Stop! Roll your window up! Are you 12?"

I pulled out of the spot and had to restrain myself from giving the woman an apologetic wave. What I should have done, what I would have done if I had any balls, was go over to her and give her the old what for. Old ladies don't scare me (okay, a little bit). It's not that I'm scared of people, it's just that I'm scared...of...of...I'm scared they won't like me.

I'm scared that some random stranger out there in the world won't like me. That is sick. Maybe I do need to go back to therapy.

1 comment:

  1. I remember in the food court at Costco, an "old bat" backed herself up into me and crunched her heels on my cart. She snarled at me and blamed me. For some reason, right there in front of God, my kids and all of Costco I let her have it. I snarled right back and told her off. I sat down with my family to eat but could barely swallow a bite. I eventually got up and found her heading out the store after her lunch and apologized. It was her fault but I behaved like a lunatic and felt horrible. Where is the balance????