I went to school with a shark.
In junior high, there was a girl who made it a point to eviscerate everybody she didn't like, and the list of people she didn't like changed from hour-to-hour.
Like true pre-teens being terrorized by a single person who just happened to be sort of pretty, everybody at my school did the reasonable thing, and tried desperately to be friends with her in the hopes of avoiding her tyranny.
The problem is, when you swim with sharks, there's a very good chance the shark will eat you just by virtue of you being in their vicinity.
Yet even today, I see people who do it.
My last post was about being a bitch on a wall who stands by and makes comments about the people who are actually enjoying themselves.
It seems like the wall bitches always have a crowd around them. People think if they make friends with the shark, they won't get eaten.
Of course, it doesn't work that way.
It's funny how we associate being cruel or nasty with being strong. Somewhere along the way, "nice" became a weak word. A word to mean "vulnerable."
That's one of the parts of this process that I have so much trouble with--I hate feeling vulnerable.
But then I remind myself that there's no more vulnerable position than being next to a predator hoping they don't turn on you.
And I swim off in the other direction.
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