I’ve always been a go getter. Despite my introverted nature, I can easily transform into a fiercely independent woman when needed. It has taken me a few years to learn that, but it was always within me. I’ve known it since I was five.
We were visiting my father’s good friend, a man who is so close to our family we call him our uncle. He had a son my age and a daughter a few years younger. Danny, his son, and I were good friends. We played together whenever our families met up. Watch TV, play video games, you name it. But every childhood friendship always has a good backstory.
I had this stuffed animal dalmatian dog, her name was Penny. Born and named after the female dog from 101 Dalmatians. I loved that thing so much, I still have Penny to this day, she’s sitting right next to me as we speak. I’ve had her since I was a year old. My brother used to have a similar dog, named Bingo. According to my mother, I was so infatuated with Bingo I would steal him and play with him. In order to stop my thievery, she got me Penny. I took her everywhere when I was younger, that includes Danny’s house.
Despite us being the same age, Danny was taller than me. He snatched Penny from my hands and dangled her over my head. I stretched and jumped as hard as I could, but just couldn’t reach. He was jiggling her around, taunting me. So I did what any other five year old would do; I sucker punched Danny with all my power straight to his spleen. He cried out in pain and instantly dropped Penny so he could clutch his stomach. I smiled and scooped her up in my arms and gave her a kiss on the soft fuzzy part of her head, right between her eyes.
I was so proud of myself. I punched a boy! And succeeded!
Alas, my victory was short lived. Danny had run out of the piano room where the crime was committed and tearfully told the story to my uncle. Who then told my parents. My dad came over to me and asked what had happened.
“Well, he stole Penny.” I said.
“Okay, did you ask him nicely to give her back?” he questioned.
“Yeah, but he laughed and said no. I didn’t want her getting hurt so I hit him and then he gave her back.”
My dad sighed, all the while suppressing a smile. Loudly he said, “Don’t do that again.”
But under his breath, just for me to hear, he murmured “Way to go kid.” I giggled happily.
From that moment, I knew that if I ever needed to accomplish something, relying on myself was the only way to go. Over the years it sometimes got hard remembering that philosophy; not every situation is as simple as a stolen stuffed animal. When people fall in and out of your life it’s difficult to remember that you’ll be okay without them. I personally like to think back on this experience, when my badass-ery peaked at age five, and remind myself that everything will be okay.
