The only time I was ever physically assaulted on the playground at school was during 4th or 5th grade. At the time, I was around the same age as my youngest daughter. But what made the assault unique was that it ensued from a girl. And it was not at all provoked except by Rob being Rob. My assailant absolutely hated me, and that hate had only swelled as elementary school progressed. Hence, when she saw her opportunity to beat me up on that particular day, she did so with a vengeance, striking me in the head and face repeatedly with her fists after shoving me to the ground. I remember not fighting back, but instead crying out that I had a recently been diagnosed with a brain condition. Upon hearing that, she eventually got off of me whilst mocking my ridiculous ruse. From there, I quickly dusted myself off before putting as much distance as I could between her and me (from that point forward).
After this day, I remember being terrified of this cruel girl, and not only because she'd humiliated me with her assault on the playground. I'd never witnessed anyone basking in others' pain as she did. She was like an uncaged wild animal that just happened to be one of my elementary school classmates year after year. There was so much hatred in her little girl heart. It was breathtaking to behold.
During middle school, this same girl would unabashedly mock our new-to-our-private-academy history teacher - during class - by calling him gay, queer or fag. She did this at least once a week, intentionally loud and demeaning. The studious young man (fresh out of college) would seethe upon hearing this, yet he'd simply try to ignore the verbal abuse and attempt to keep on teaching. On occasion, he'd throw her out of the classroom, but more often than not, he'd simply attempt to make the best of a situation that truly was unmanageable. These derogatory descriptors weren't readily used during the '80s, therefore that made them that much more vulgar and shockingly disrespectful.
Once I moved into 9th (or maybe 10th) grade, I caught wind that this girl had become pregnant (over the summer) and therefore had dropped out of school.
I breathed a sigh of relief (as did my classmates).
I often wondered if her baby turn out to be the Antichrist.
High school became slightly more civilized once she was gone.
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When I arrived home from the 2021 National Samson Society retreat, I was delighted to see one of our neighbor's homes up for sale. That particular homeowner, around the beginning of this year, had communicated her disdain for me and my entire family via the magic of text messaging.
Over the course of the preceding weeks (before she revealed her disdain), she and I had been collaboratively working to schedule a date / time for her family to share an initial meal with the Turners. And that sporadic communication had gone as one might expect.
Yet, whilst looking back on that, I should have never been communicating in this manner with a young female neighbor. Instead, the arrangements should have been made between she and my wife (who knew her slightly better than I did).
Nonetheless, I immediately blocked her number after her verbal vomit, but not before she'd had the opportunity to mock my disabled wife in the cruelest manner. It was a heartless attack that left me speechless.
Over the course of this weekend, their U-Haul truck was loaded up twice, and each time they ferried it out of our cul-de-sac, I could feel my blood pressure diminish slightly. Last night, one of their vehicles was still remaining, parallel parked on the street out in front of their former 2-bedroom abode. But then, after we returned home from church, all reminders of their presence had been removed.
One quick side note: A day or two after this neighbor's venomous text messages landed in my smartphone, I sat down with the girls and gave them clear instructions. Everyone listened intently, and thankfully, no one questioned my orders. In a nutshell, I relayed to them that I'd become aware of this woman's mental health issues, therefore in light of her instability, they were to steer clear of the family at all costs. And they did.
And from there, we did as the Bible instructs and prayed for their salvation and well-being.
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Throughout my life, I've at times found myself having to associate / work alongside women who scare me via their combined intellect and virulence. And this fear is rooted in the leverage they have as emotionally driven females.
Because I'm a man, I refuse to fight these women, though I will stand up to them (if I believe it's absolutely necessary). But more often than not, I simply work diligently to put as much distance between myself and them as possible.
Being in their very presence hurts my heart. Because I know they're damaged goods. Deeply scarred. Massively wounded. More often than not by a man / men.
It makes my heart sick to see women in this condition, but it also puts a smile on my face when I see them move on.
God help them.
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