Occasionally, however, when I got real worked up, my logic failed me. Once, as I was wheeling my mom’s clothes to the laundromat in a shopping cart, an older kid called me a pussy. I stopped to de-escalate, and when that didn’t work, I informed him that his mother was a pussy. I ended up getting whupped by him and his friends. As I lay on the ground getting kicked, I wondered whether I really needed to stick up for myself every time. When it comes down to choosing between your life and your pride, I’ll keep my life.
