Of all of the things I am afraid of, speaking up for myself and my family, is not one. Speaking up to bullies is not one either. Neither is speaking out in the face of what I feel is unjust or unfair. 

It doesn't matter the cost or the bridges that get burned along the way. It doesn't matter how giant the turn my stomach makes as I speak my truth. I am small, but my voice is mighty. And I own that, today, fully and without apology. 

When I was in second grade, I cracked a boy named Steven in the head with a wooden baseball bat because he was taunting the special education students on the playground. He was forcing them to "fight like chickens" in a ring, and taking bets on who'd win. 

After a few days of trying to politely have my angry opposition heard, to no avail, I finally couldn't take it anymore. 

I'm not saying knocking this bully on his ass was the best choice, but it certainly was the first time I learned a super valuable life lesson: sometimes, when you are standing up for what you believe in, someone might get hurt. 

I wish I could write so much more. Lily is in the bath (Mommmmm! I need another washcloth!") and my meat sauce is ready to be put in jars for Braedon (Mommmmm! I'm starving every second of the day!") - but I couldn't not get this out. 

Again, mostly so that I don't forget. 

Sometimes, being a badass means you aren't going to be well-liked. Especially if you are a tiny little white girl with giant blue eyes. People want you to be polite, and pretty, and ladylike. 

I know I'm being vague here, but again, I only have one toe in this pool right now because, I am needed nonstop in Mama Land. But please just know that even though people might get pissed, and they will most likely call you names, and they will get that ugly pursed-mouth thing that people get when they want you to just disappear; you still have to let your truth be shared. Somehow. Someway. If for no other reason than to set it free.

Fuck 'em. Seriously. 

Now-a-days I leave the baseball bats behind, and choose my battles, and my words, very mindfully.  I promise myself I will journal about something 5 times before I am allowed to address it outwardly. But I refuse to be silent for the sake of being sweet. Um, no thanks. 

You don't need approval to do what you think is best. 

A truly strong person does not need the approval of others any more than a lion needs the approval of sheep.

Keep going. USE YOUR VOICE. The end.