you come up to me after a meeting and have the audacity to say 'i liked it better down'.
confusion spreads across my face.
you chuckle and grin. 'your hair, you put it up. i liked it better down'.
and i laugh it off, awkwardly saying 'oh'.
and then it hits me like a ton of bricks.
resentment.
anger.
fury.
toxicity at its finest.
spreading it around to anyone who will listen.
who the fuck do you think you are? did I ask your opinion? do you think it's something I want? does the sun shine from your ass? who in the honest fuck do you think you are? you're twice my age and a real sick fuck.
never comment on a woman's appearance with your 'preference'. not then, especially not now, not ever.
and then a wise fellow with 18 years sobriety says "the problem is you have the resentment, and that hurts you. there's healing there for you. this is not about today, it bothers you because someone else was critical of your appearance."
ding. ding. ding.
someone. an old flame. an unhealthy person. a narcissist. an abuser. a step father.
over and over and over again. a lifetime riddled with off hand comments meant to break someone down. manipulate. belittle. exercise power over.
the funny thing is. before you get honest, you're in the dark about these things. quiet and seemingly peaceful, content. and then you get honest and all of a sudden you're like 'wait a minute, I'm angry.'
i. am. angry.
what can women do about men like these?
rise up, rise up.
there's strength in numbers.
- god could and would if he were sought.
