My Embarrassing Moment

My Embarrassing Moment

I have one younger sister; and I was always taught to protect her. Not that I'm any great protector. I'm not a really good fighter. I was always beaten in fights. But I, still, knew I belonged standing up for my little sister.

I remember once I even fought a boy for my little sister. I don't even remember what it was he was doing. Of course, I was beaten up until I had tears forming in my eyes. And I felt so disappointed in myself. I really expected myself to be capable of winning the fight with him. But I was not seeing my strength, only my weakness. I had stood up to him and dared to win or lose. When I lost, I didn't understand that that's what comes with fighting. Good fighters are ready to lose; and they, sometimes, do. They have fears. They just face them. And when they cry, it doesn't make them feel inferior to others. However, that wasn't the incident that embarrassed me; though, it was disappointing.

And it's not that I hadn't had many other fights. I remember a fight I had when I was even younger. I remember that the pain of the other person's licks put a stop to me. I couldn't even feel courage standing behind some form of weapon like a stick, or a rope. A friend, right next to me, was also being bullied by the same girl. And she stood there with a jump rope ready to defend herself. I wondered why I didn't have as much courage. It was something that fed insecurities in me.

Then there was the bully I had in the second grade. Once again, a friend stood up to her; but I did not. The idea of fighting her, or making her mad, terrified me. And, again, I felt insignificant. Why did others have more courage than me. It never occurred to me that it was human.

I was in a fight at a park with a friend. When she took the swing from my hands, after incidents of being bullied and pushed around, I took it as an attack on my dignity. We ended up fighting. This time, I didn't stop throwing licks with tears flooding my eyes. At the end of the fight, I took the pain of her licks to mean I was weak. And, it never occurred to me that I demonstrated any strength, or potential for learning to fight for myself, even when my older sister mentioned that the girl seemed to be, eventually, running from me. It was something my older sister had noticed even as I remained drowning in my insecurities.

I admit that, by then, I was used to being taken advantage of for reasons and by people I won't mention. My little sister was too. That promoted me feeling like my weaknesses and limitations made me inferior to others instead of human. But I, still, never wanted to see others take advantage of my little sister even though we often fought with each other. We were known for fighting and often got in trouble for fighting; but that comes along with being sisters. We, still, loved each other. And we were always united by sharing the same plight.

My embarrassing moment was when I was in the second grade; and my sister and I were on the school bus; and a girl her age, and younger than me, attacked her for reasons I, still, don't know. My sister cried in defeat as the girl said to a girl beside her, "....and I'll attack her sister, too, if she messes with me." It intimidated me; and I never said anything. I never forgot that I was too afraid of a girl younger than me to stand up for my little sister.

AND THAT'S MY STORY. THE END.