I used to be very big. Much taller than the other kids at school. And strong. When i was three going on four i started ballet. Not that i wanted to. It was the only thing i could do, being so small. I hated it. I had to go on for three months, then quitted. Next year i started judo. That suited me more. But i was not supposed to hurt anybody. I was not supposed to use it out of the classes. I was to be a good girl. I was one.
When i was about ten three or four boys were walking some steps ahead of me on the street. I think they were smaller than myself, though at least one of them was probably older. But the younger one was very, very young. He grabbed my hair and pulled, so i smiled, lift him from the ground just holding his arm. I didn't think the others could behave the way they did, and couldn't even imagine another way of behaving myself, facing such a strange situation, everybody smaller than myself and with a very young kid. But the others saw i didn't defend myself, so they attacked. Next thing i know i was lying on the floor. It felt like a very long time passed and a woman finally shouted out to them to let me go. I think i run back all the way, crying. They really hurt me (and my pride, gosh =D)
I didn’t tell anybody but my mother, because she was there and happened to be the “safe place” back then. I just didn’t talk about it and simply forgot it. Remembered it a long time later, casually. It still feels kind of uncomfortable.
The other day i exposed my doubts about the subject to a friend i really trust. The direction he took seems good to me: never hit, but defend yourself. I think i’ll note it down.
Much better than the opinion of this late relative ;) of mine: he happened to have taught his nephew how to hit. That’s the only way they wouldn’t be pissed off, he maintained. I don’t agree. I cannot help being against. I won’t teach my son how to hit. But i have to admit it could be useful...