The last time I gave a man the benefit of the doubt, I became his hostage. I was assaulted, beaten, debased. I would rather die than let myself become a victim again. So, I tell that little voice to go fuck itself. It’s the same critical bitch that asked me why I didn’t notice Jim was a violent abuser. If it wants me to be polite in the face of potential danger, it needs to haunt a doormat.
Exactly!
