Use Your Words...

Second Grade:

Her mother held her chin in her hand turning her face back and forth surveying the damage. A black eye and a swollen lip were the worst of it.

"How many times have I told you to use your words?"

She tried to answer but the grip on her chin made it impossible to move her mouth. And besides that everytime she spoke the scab on her lip would reopen and start to bleed. It had been a solid jab. Who knew that Jenny had it in her?

She really had tried to use her words. She knew she was supposed to use her words but sometimes...oh sometimes it was just impossible. Something would happen and she would get mad and she could feel her hands start to itch. The need to hit something or more often someone was overwhelming and then she was off. Her older brothers had taught her how to fight so she was pretty good at it. Of course saying they taught her how to fight made it sound like formal lessons instead of on the job training. But either way she knew how to punch. And how to take a punch too. Even when she wasn't expecting it. She would have to ask Jenny if she had brothers too, and how to throw a hook like the one that caught her eye. It was a good punch.

"Young lady, are you listening to me?"

She nodded. She was listening. Use your words. She heard her mother. She always heard her mother.


Middle School:

She stuffed the dirty shirt in to the bottom of the laundry basket. The mud and grass stains should wash out okay. If not she would make up a story about soccer practice or something. She couldn't get caught fighting again. Her mother had threatened to ground her for a month the next time she was in a fight. She couldn't be grounded right now. Jenny's birthday party was coming up and she would die if she missed it. Her mother thought they were going to have a movie night and slumber party but really Jenny's father was going to take them to a UFC fight. She and Jenny were going to make signs that said, "USE YOUR WORDS" to hold up at the fight. They thought it would be really funny. She couldn't miss it.

She went in to the bathroom to check the mirror for any damage to her face. She didn't think he had even gotten one shot in. She had pegged him 3 or 4 quick rabbit jabs to the body and he hadn't been able to block any of them. Big lumbering bully that he was when faced with someone who not only fought back, but fought better he couldn't handle it. That's why he had resulted to tackling her as she walked away. Knocked the wind out of her, but she was still able to swing a leg around and give him a quick kick in the kidneys. She would have told him to pick on someone his own size, but there was no one his size. That's why he had gotten away with it for so long. Right up until she had found her friend Greg bloodied and missing his new SmartWatch. Now he might think twice before bullying a smaller kid. How was he to know who she was friends with?

"YOUNG LADY, GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

Crap. She guessed she wasn't going to get to go to Jenny's party after all.

High School:

She was sitting in the principal's office. Again. She hadn't been fighting. Not really. She hadn't laid a hand on any one. She just suggested that she might if provoked. That wasn't the same as fighting. That, my friends, was using her words. She was the only one in the room who agreed.

"We have talked about this. You have a history of fighting and we have a strict policy."

She hated strict policies. There needed to be more wriggle room than strict policy allowed. Sometimes people didn't respond to reason and logic. Sometimes they just needed a swift knock in the jaw. Most everyone responded to that.

"Because you did not technically fight James you are not going to be expelled. But this really is your last chance. You have after school detention for two weeks with Mr. McRaney and a weekly appointment for the next month with Ms. Gallagher."

It could have been worse for sure. Mr. McRaney wanted her to join his wrestling team so she guessed he had asked to supervise her specifically to try and recruit her during her punishment. Ms. Gallagher wasn't bad as far as school counsellors went. She pretty much said exactly what her mother did, "Use your words." She could listen to that for four visits since she had been listening to it for her whole life. And if it meant that James understood that no meant no no matter who told him then it was worth it.

College:

She had started boxing. Women's Golden Gloves champion. Not bad at all. It was teaching her to control her temper. Her mother wasn't thrilled with the idea but she was over 18 now and so could choose to do what she wanted. And she wanted to learn to box. She was thinking that she might look in to Mixed Martial Arts too. But what she was finding was that she fought because she had to. Or felt she had to. Fighting for fun wasn't really holding her attention. But it was making her better. Stronger. She did like that part.

And she really liked that she had a reputation as someone not to be messed with. Of course a few people had tried. They always did. People like to measure themselves against others. She was a short measuring stick, but a mighty one. She had a bigger reputation than her smaller frame seemed capable of holding.

Jenny worried about her. They were in seperate colleges and Jenny was afraid that she would get herself in to trouble she couldn't get out of. "You aren't writing checks with your mouth that your body can't cash are you?" She had laughed at that. That would not have been a good use of her words, now would it?

She started teaching a women's self defense class when the boxing and the MMA classes got too boring. She was really good at it.

Motherhood:

"I HATE YOU!" her daughter screamed as she ran upstairs.

"She doesn't really, she's just a teenager. You must have been the same way." Her husband had tried to comfort her. But she had sat there stunned. Yes, she knew her daughter didn't mean it. Not really. But it still hurt so damn much. Much worse than any punch she had ever taken. Now she finally understood the lesson she should have learned.

Use your words. They hurt so much more.