Confession Time

Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Below.

I have something to confess that I’ve never said before, at least not in this way.

There is a woman I’ve been afraid of for a long time. She has a terrible temper and you never know when she’s going to unleash those war-hounds. Whenever  I’ve been around her, I’ve felt I had to be very careful or she’d do something  vindictive.  She feels that anyone who  comes into her circle of influence is hers. As in, she acts like she owns you.

And because she wields a lot of power, I—as well as others—have  been afraid of her. You just never  know when she might come unglued if she doesn’t get her way.

I’ve tried to keep a low profile, but it doesn’t work with her. You must do it her way and if you don’t, she’ll make polite remarks  that all  have a double meaning,  a hurtful double meaning that she’ll often claim was never meant  that  way,  but  you  know.  You  know.  And  she knows that you know she meant it. And that it’s said as a warning and that she will do everything in her substantial power to ruin you if you don’t suck up properly.

She is a master when it comes to guilt trips.

So all these years, I’ve been afraid of this woman and I’ve never said anything. And I’ve been ashamed of being afraid of her. Like I said, I’ve always thought of the damage she could inflict on me if she chose to.

A few days ago, I remembered something she said to me on a business trip, years ago. She’d had too much to drink at the time and she just let it tumble out. A dark secret from her past. She wanted to talk,  and I’m a good listener. Afterwards, she told me the people at work could never know. She asked me not to say anything, to anyone, about the specifics of her secret, and I never have. Actually, this is a scene that’s played out a lot in my life, but then I’m quiet and I let people talk and  though it may seem that I disclose a lot of my life in my journals, there is much that I don’t.

Today, I started to do something and heard that little voice of doubt in my head that reminds me of her power and that if she doesn’t  like what I’m doing, she’ll interfere. But this time, when she started to interfere, she didn’t instill fear in me. Her actions both pissed me off and made me laugh.

That’s because I realized today that she has no power over me. At all. She can try to interfere or try to do damage or try to control me, but it no longer works. I’ve been thinking of  how  much  power  she’s  had  over  me,  and that’s given her power over me. But all along, I’ve known her secret, and that gives me power over her, if I choose to use it, though I’m not the least bit interested in power over her except for the power to be out from under her fist. I don’t care about her secret or what she’s done—I just want her to leave me alone.

But today,  after all these years of giving her power over me, I have taken back my power.

I have not said a word about her secret but I have told her no to some asinine something she’d demanded. She’s running around like crazy, plotting and talking to our colleagues and trying to keep things  stirred  up. I’m angry when I first find out, but then I have to smile at the image I get of Bozo and the clowns trying to keep me in line with                  the         little                 games    they      play.      They      are…at best…ineffectual.

I have something to confess that I’ve never said before, at least not in this way.

There is a woman I’ve been afraid of for a long time. She has a terrible temper and you never know when she’s going to unleash those war-hounds. Whenever  I’ve been around her, I’ve felt I had to be very careful or she’d do something  vindictive.  She feels that anyone who  comes into her circle of influence is hers. As in, she acts like she owns you.

And because she wields a lot of power, I—as well as others—have  been afraid of her. You just never  know when she might come unglued if she doesn’t get her way.

I’ve tried to keep a low profile, but it doesn’t work with her. You must do it her way and if you don’t, she’ll make polite remarks  that all  have a double meaning,  a hurtful double meaning that she’ll often claim was never meant  that  way,  but  you  know.  You  know.  And  she knows that you know she meant it. And that it’s said as a warning and that she will do everything in her substantial power to ruin you if you don’t suck up properly.

She is a master when it comes to guilt trips.

So all these years, I’ve been afraid of this woman and I’ve never said anything. And I’ve been ashamed of being afraid of her. Like I said, I’ve always thought of the damage she could inflict on me if she chose to.

A few days ago, I remembered something she said to me on a business trip, years ago. She’d had too much to drink at the time and she just let it tumble out. A dark secret from her past. She wanted to talk,  and I’m a good listener. Afterwards, she told me the people at work could never know. She asked me not to say anything, to anyone, about the specifics of her secret, and I never have. Actually, this is a scene that’s played out a lot in my life, but then I’m quiet and I let people talk and  though it may seem that I disclose a lot of my life in my journals, there is much that I don’t.

Today, I started to do something and heard that little voice of doubt in my head that reminds me of her power and that if she doesn’t  like what I’m doing, she’ll interfere. But this time, when she started to interfere, she didn’t instill fear in me. Her actions both pissed me off and made me laugh.

That’s because I realized today that she has no power over me. At all. She can try to interfere or try to do damage or try to control me, but it no longer works. I’ve been thinking of  how  much  power  she’s  had  over  me,  and that’s given her power over me. But all along, I’ve known her secret, and that gives me power over her, if I choose to use it, though I’m not the least bit interested in power over her except for the power to be out from under her fist. I don’t care about her secret or what she’s done—I just want her to leave me alone.

But today,  after all these years of giving her power over me, I have taken back my power.

I have not said a word about her secret but I have told her no to some asinine something she’d demanded. She’s running around like crazy, plotting and talking to our colleagues and trying to keep things  stirred  up. I’m angry when I first find out, but then I have to smile at the image I get of Bozo and the clowns trying to keep me in line with                  the         little                 games    they      play.      They      are…at best…ineffectual.