Girl on Fire: Part II

Thank goodness for writing therapy, amiright? I mean, I have a lot of patience for most people, so my fury is like a comet, only coming around every ten years or so. But when the emotional load gets to a certain point and tips the scale just so, look out. It's about to go down.

This needs to be said--has needed to be said for years--and will be said the minute my switch is flipped in person. So the next time you decide to make fun of people’s "eccentricity," (you're using the word wrong in the wrong way, btw, and there ain't nothin wrong with being whomever the fuck you want to be so screw off with the judgmental bullshit), or weigh in on our choices of "weird" vacation spots or jobs that should be more "prestigious," (WTF?) or refer to me as "white" when you know damn well that I'm not; or "check in" on people who just lost a parent to Covid--not because you actually care about them, but because you want to get the scoop on what happened so you can turn around and relay it as gossip to your mom (UGH who does that shit?!); or laugh at how "boring" my newborn boy's blue clothes are, as I'm home just trying to survive another day as a new mom without a mom; or throw a tantrum because I can't come to your kid's dance recital out of town the day after my wedding, or laugh and call people "sad" for only having one child (wtf?!), or stand there while I've taken the time out of a religious holiday that I celebrate to come to your house as you and your sidekick ask pointed questions about my faith in such a way that makes it clear that you're mocking, you better CHECK YOURSELF. And when you got the cojones to stand there at an engagement announcement, side-eye me while asking the mother-in-law "Is the bride Indian? She IS? Oh gooooooood," step that shit back up. I may not say much, but I hear and see all. I hope you enjoyed your run, because it. is. up.

I don't know what quarantine has done to my brain, or if all of the raw energy from justice movements have stirred something in my soul, but I am like a girl on fire. I'll be 45 in September, and I am no longer indulging fools. 

I realize that for many years, throughout my late twenties and thirties, I was in survival mode. I was a caretaker and a new mother and money was short and I was just focused on making sure that all my people stayed alive, out of prison (unsuccessfully), and well fed. I didn't have the time or the energy to fight other battles, so the floodgates were open for the bullying, insults, put-downs, and mean girl jokes that were designed to undermine me. I'll never understand why, but that's not my therapy session. What I do know is that I was too busy maintaining myself and my loved ones to put any energy into a response. But you can be sure as shit that I noticed. Oooohh, I noticed.

So I'm just gonna code switch here and say ¡ME VALE! I don't give a fuck what you think about my life, or who I am or am not, I don't care what you think about how life should work. Because there are other ways to live outside of your rigid worldview, and I'm not ashamed of who I am or where I come from--even if no one in the family will acknowledge it. So stop acting like your shit don't stink just because all of my family's shit is out front and yours is behind closed doors.

The funny thing is, I was willing to let it be water under the bridge as recently as last winter. In fact, I went out of my way at the last get together to say some kind words and make it clear that I was ready to start fresh. Because I've been cool like that over the years. But then quarantine happened. And while everyone has had their own response to that, a mere few weeks in and someone gets a bug up their butt and decides to come pay a visit for no other reason than to talk shit. Accusing me of being "paranoid," a germaphobe, lame for staying home during a panfuckingdemic, and tryna dictate how I should hang with my neighbors. Totally unprovoked. Too bad, because there was a lot of shit I had put behind me, but all it took was this ridiculous little tantrum over you being stuck inside without your mommy and daddy for it to all come back. So yeah. Reckoning time.