I’ve been feeling kind of uninspired lately.

But that all changed when I was heading home today. I don’t understand why it bothers me so much, but I really really really hate it when men use the word “b*tch” when referring to a woman.

I was on my way home, dealing with the typical Monday New York City traffic on the bus ride back to the apartment. I stood on the bus, holding two of my bags, and was doing my best to balance as the bus lurched to and fro.

My bag bumped into a guy seated next to me, and he shoved my bag away from him and turned to his girlfriend(?), and in a mock stage whisper, muttered “I wish these b*tches would f*#%ing learn how to get their bags outta my face.”

I froze. Not out of fear, but out of pure anger.

I had a long and frustrating day at the office, I was hungry, tired, the weather was miserable, and a part of me was actually itching for a fight. It didn’t help that I hated that word so much. Fortunately, I suppose, a bigger part of me knew better and I took a long deep breath and did my best to still my nerves and ignore the jerk. But my stomach remained all twisted and my teeth clenched until I finally got off the bus.

I had to take a walk before my heart started beating at a less furious pace and I realized that despite not having eaten lunch or dinner, I had completely lost my appetite.

But I had to eat something, so I walked to the nearest grocery store and grabbed an ice cream.

(I know what you’re thinking. Ice cream is not a meal…but today, it was exactly what I needed.)

I proceeded to walk the longer route home, and ate my ice cream cone while slowly but surely forgetting about the misogynist on the bus.

But one feeling did remain. I wanted to become stronger. Not necessarily physically…but I wanted to become stronger mentally and emotionally. To one day have the power and will to be not only unshaken by the words of others, but to also have enough leftover to defend people who are being preyed on by the cowards who are so willing to hurt those weaker than them.

Phew. That’s all. What a way to start the week…

King Cones are the Best Medicine.

…At least there was ice cream.

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