Fight or flight

I've never been in a fight. Never once.

That might not seem like anything significant, but in northern Minnesota, growing up in a town with little more to do than fall into the gender stereotypes that you would see in any coming-of-age movie or book, it definitely wasn't normal.

It wasn't like I avoided it necessarily, or stepped down if people started something, it was more that the fights that happened just didn't really happen what I was around.

Part of me regrets that. I wonder if it makes me more or less afraid of confrontation. I think maybe it means that I'm less afraid.

But I've been taken. There is that.

There is that fear that exists in the back of myself that no one could ever come close to.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that my fears only ever come from one thing.

One place.

Nothing else really registers.

But that one place...

I stopped running, but can I fight if it came down to it?

I don't think I can.