I remember a time when I'd get excited about concerts. I'd get decked out in my coolest outfit, have a little "pre-game" action at the hotel room with my friends (I mean getting intoxicated get your mind outta the gutter) and then we'd go to the amphitheater or coliseum, get as close to the stage as possible (knowing damn well we'd be swallowed by a crazy ass mosh pit) and I'd have the time of my life.
Yes, I've fallen in more mosh pits than I'd like to admit. And any of you who have been in a REAL mosh pit know that could be a life or death situation. I've been in situations where I looked behind me and wondered "Now how in the hell are we getting out of this?". But that was the thrill of it all. The danger, the threat, and the test of your bravery. Did you have the balls to say "fuck it!" and just throw yourself into the music.
I remember driving around with my friends and seeing a crowd of girls on the side of the road. One of my friends caught a glimpse of them flicking us off in the rear view mirror as we passed and although there were more of them, there was no hesitation. The brakes were slammed on and the car was doing a U-turn before I even knew what was going on. The posse of girls took off running in every direction and we felt badass because they'd run from us. lol Lord know what would have happened if they actually stayed and fought. Oh, to be teenagers again.
One time in high school one of the most popular guys in school was in my class. He was handsome, he was a surfer and everyone knew him. He was also making the most annoying noise over and over and over again although I'd told him to shut up repeatedly. Something in me snapped. The next thing I knew I was stalking toward him. His eyes went wide as saucers and he backed himself against the wall where I grabbed his jaw and smushed his cheeks together before yelling, "Shut the fuck up!" That got everyone's attention.
I've never been in a fight. I tried, talked trash, but it never got to that point. I've always been a tomboy. I've always preferred jeans over skirts. And I was raised by my sisters to never accept anything less than the same respect I'd show someone else. I see pain as a way to gain strength not as something that will weaken me. I have tattoos that are visible. And the older I get the less I really give a shit what you think about me.
So what's my point?? Somehow these kinds of things relayed the message to the world that I was a badass. I'm not a badass.
You know what I get excited about now? Scented candles, romance novels and new vacuums. I get absolutely giddy when I see a pair of baby DC's in Journey's because GOD DAMMIT those fucking shoes are ADORABLE! I also feel bad for baby bunnies that my dog kills and brings into my garage. I have a soft heart.
So just sayin'... if being a badass means being violent or vengeful or angry... that's so not me.
BUT if it means not giving a fuck about people judging you, if it means standing up for what you think is right, if it means being willing to sacrifice your own safety to protect the safety of someone you love, if it means being REAL... then shit, maybe I am. But I'd never admit it.