Liberated

It reached a point where I was seething for hours every Sunday. It took hours to talk me down from my rage. Last week, I was so upset, I couldn’t even talk about it until Friday. I made a choice. I can’t have anger building up inside me on a regular basis. I can’t allow something so toxic to infect my life. I will not allow someone else to control my feelings. I will not give someone else power over me. I will not let someone else define me, make me doubt myself, or prey on my insecurities. I will let go. I will sing for myself.

It worked.

I was pleasant, professional, and stayed in my sacred space. I ignored the childish passive aggression. I sang my face off, and I enjoyed myself. I was in control. It’s true that if you don’t react to the aggression underneath the passive-aggressiveness, all you are left with is passivity, which just means the other person is ineffectual, feckless, impotent. And, possibly, it will piss them off because they no longer have power over you. They can’t control you by making you feel insecure, nor can they lash out with actual aggression because that would reveal them to be the aggressive person they really are. Sometimes being truly happy will make an unhappy person go absolutely crazy.

At least for this day, I am free.