Self-Defense Shenanigan

Everyone has a less than desirable or even imperfect adolescence. Count me into the equation as well. Please skip reading if you had a great childhood. During the first year of middle school, just because I got a single "B" (one B in the darn report card determined my fate!) instead of straight A's back in the Year 6 Primary School Achievement Test, I was simply tossed into the fifth class. There were altogether 10 classes in middle school.

As usual, the seating arrangement was such that girls were seated next to other girls and vice versa. It was a co-ed middle school. Sex education had yet to be included within the parenting bible. I was guided by instinct to remain vigilant since kindergarten. My parents would have fainted if I told them a boy held my hand on the very first day of kindergarten. Let's reserve that story for another time. The point I am trying to emphasize here is that unattractive little girls are prone to sexual harassment too.

Since there was one girl short in middle school, I had to sit alone on the left-hand corner of the second last row. That's where the problem arose. Two male classmates sitting in the last row decided to hate me so much already that they not only pulled my hair on a daily basis but kicked my chair constantly and whenever possible. On normal occasions, kids would either cry or complain to both teachers and parents. Not me. My parents had little time for nuisance so I was forced to solve my own problem. Plain Janes like myself had to deal with one disturbing truth, that is, who the hell in their right mind would waste precious time harassing me? Mean people always put it this way, "Take a piss in the metal basin then observe the reflection with utmost care before making unfounded accusations!"

This paragraph is a little off the beaten track but still relevant. Being ugly is never a sin because I later found out that it could be fixed financially. These days, beauty is all about who could afford the better cosmetic surgeon. Anyway, unappealing people like myself are more livid about getting doubts after reporting sexual harassment to authorities. Just to be clear, I hail from a country where they require 4 witnesses if one ever gets raped. It's difficult enough getting adults to admit watching porn let alone the courage to testify in court.

My brilliant solution number one was to chop off my hair rather than someone's head although that was another viable option. Don't ask which head. Worry not! I'm still filial enough to ensure my parents stay alive for as long as possible instead of dying in shock if I ever get sent to a juvenile delinquency center.

Solution number two was to learn self-defense. The reason I always meet nice men later on in life probably had to do with me enduring enough bruises to filter out people unsuitable for me. Obtaining a black belt requires perseverance.

In the past, before Brazillian Jujitsu and Aikido got popularized, martial arts instructors used to tell their female students to run for their life if the size of opponents were ever too overwhelming. An amusing fact was we also had to run 1.5km during warming up sessions before actual self-defense class began. On one particular cloudy day, when a big burly man greeted me "Jolie" in the streets of Paris, I actually ran for my life. It was built into me after years of training. Kind of like running on autopilot. Then, as I was running, a thought flashed through my mind, "I should have taken up marathon instead of martial arts!"🤣