Lesson #12: Speak Up

If you've ever met me you know that I am no shrinking violet. I light up a room like a 1,000 watt bulb. My laugh is distinctive, cascading like bells through hallways and dinner parties. I'm opinionated. Outspoken. Argumentative, if pushed. But in many ways and for many decades I've taken a vow of silence. When your father leaves at a young age - just young enough to not fully comprehend but old enough to blame yourself - you start to alter yourself. Diminish. You edit and wonder what it was about you that wasn't compelling enough to stick around for.. You tweak and think 'if I could be more perfect, or more this or more that' maybe he would have stayed. Maybe there is something wrong with you after all, something unworthy that will make all subsequent men leave. So you keep quiet. If someone says something that bothers you, you nod and smile. If your boyfriend spends all his free time with his ex, you accommodate. If someone else takes credit for your work or idea, you try to be a team player. In short, you become the master of silent perfection out of sheer terror of being who you are, and worse yet, being rejected for it. Nobody likes anger, right? So practice passive aggression. Nobody wants to hear you dissent, so become a yes woman. Who wouldn't want a girlfriend who cooks, cleans, and never complains? It turns out, pretty much everyone. It is one of the hardest lessons I have learned thus far. Speak up. If you have that gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach, don't choke back the emotion. If you dislike what someone has said to you, let them know. Be cordial, if at all possible, but above all, be firm. At first, this will feel horrendous, like you have transformed into the mega-est of megabitches. Like you are a fire-breathing dragon burning down villages. Why isn't anyone noticing? Why isn't anyone angry? Oh, right, that's because they are too busy respecting you.