Men don’t rise to the occasion; they fall to the level of their discipline.
In the heat of the moment, my mind goes blank. Whether it’s a spotlight on stage, the red light on the camera, or a confrontation during some street protest, in-my-face confrontation severs the line between my brain and my mouth, and I’m essentially lobotomized.
It’s not fear, exactly, although that’s there. It’s more like exposure. It’s a harsh light on my shortcomings. It’s especially true when loved ones criticize us or cause us harm - our closeness to them implies that they know us better, and therefore see the “real” person within us better. And if we don’t like ourselves, we react, and the results aren’t great.
In the last several years, I reacted with anger. I was starting to have some realizations, and you better believe I believed my anger was righteous.
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