Imaginary Battles

    I’ve come to realize that I am useless when I need to stand up for myself. I’m too shy, awkward, afraid. I’m an angry crier so I try to avoid getting verbally mad at someone lest I burst into tears and they never take me seriously, or I never get my point across through the sobs. I’ve often fantasized about being a vigilante or a superhero, someone who takes a stand when injustice is served. I wanted to be able to fight for myself, for others, but in the end I couldn’t. So instead, I imagine it. 
When people treat me like dirt, mock me, taunt me, I imagine my fearless response. I imagine giving them a piece of my mind in an eloquent and passionate speech where I don’t trip over my words, my voice doesn’t crack, and I never burst into tears. I imagine conflicts that never even end up happening. When I see an irked looking customer, my employer, someone in my household, or a complete stranger on the street that looks shifty, I mentally plan a response that will never come to be. I see myself as firm and unmoving when somebody tells me I can’t do my job. I see myself as deserving and confident when I tell my boss I am owed a raise. I tell my parental units how I’m truly feeling in a logical, straightforward way without flinching. I meet a stranger with combat as they try to rob or defile me, delivering masterful blows to the head and kicks everywhere else. I sweep the city and take out criminals with my bow and drag their flesh-wounded arses to the police station. I stand in front of the Legislative building and protest the treatment of us low-income peasants, shouting out inspiring words that the government actually hears. I tell a friend-turned-enemy to fuck off before they can hurt me anymore, or in the best case scenario, at all. 
I don’t walk the streets afraid because I know I can take on anyone. I don’t recoil when I’m yelled at, talked down to, or disrespected because I know I have the courage to tell them they’re wrong. If I see someone else nearby facing abuse in any way, I discard my self preservation and defend them at all costs. I can stand up to bullies, stand up for equal rights, stand up for a better world, stand up for me. 
I am not the quiet coward who suppresses the pent up anger from a decade and a half because they are unable to speak up. I am not the broken, beaten, defeated individual who never finds the strength to put their foot down and say “enough is enough”. My enemies don’t haunt me because I taught them a lesson, I taught them that they can’t just go about life disregarding the fact that people shouldn’t be treated like shit, and that lesson was learned. My body holds no trauma, my brain holds no regret of unsaid words, my soul holds no fury from facing all the cruelty the world has to offer. I am free and untouched and brave. 
I truly admire the people that go out into a new day and protest for a better world. People who fight for the good things like a clean planet, peace over war, democracy and independence, equality for all races and genders and cultures. I aspire to be like the people who hid refugees and slaves and Jews. The people that skipped school to march in the name of the climate crisis, black lives, indiginous peoples, women, those who fall into the LGBTQ+ community. The people who go on strike because they know that poverty wages aren’t worth it and they deserve more. The people who tell their stories and write their songs of abuse, injustice, descrimination. It is because of these people I have hope in our future, I just wish I were among them. 
In the meantime though, I will continue my epic imaginary battles where I am the heroine who saves the day. My voice will continue to be soft, but perhaps through this blog, my thoughts will be loud. Perhaps I can stand and fight through my written words. Perhaps I can make a difference in this world by moving someone who reads these posts. I may not be able to defend myself or stand up for others physically, but, I suppose I can wield the pen until I learn to wield the sword.