Confrontation Station

Upon reflection of confrontation, I realize it makes me want to run and hide, behind a curtain of my own paralyzing self-doubt.

Not wanting to be too loud or unladylike, makes me question the feminist mindset of my mother’s generation and what percentage it ran at.

Although I suppose it was harder to gain resources in the early 1980’s, more straight lines, less Internet blog think pieces.

Nowhere to get your news but the local paper, which once ran a piece on my three legged dog, and last month’s issue of Reader’s Digest passed down from a neighbourhood friend.

I think about my family’s brains often, the way the wheels turn and the strange things that make them upset. I suppose my own brain possess the almost parallel desire to be unreasonably unobtrusive.

The amount of times I wrote opinion pieces to both the local paper and Reader’s Digest seem unreasonable as well.

I suppose I am much bolder on paper.

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