Inland, Dreaming of Waves

This is not about a cat

Just got back from Krav Maga with scraped knuckles and a bloody elbow. When I was first doing Krav Maga this sort of war wound impressed me. Now I just think, “Damn, I just got rid of that scab and now it’s bleeding again.”

The woman I was fighting—or maybe I should say girl, because she’s in high school—was not gentle. She hit me in the head and kneed me in the belly and a few other things I can’t remember. It made me want to be more aggressive.

I think in a fight the main ally of the winner is aggressiveness, or determination, or, perhaps, heart. The ability to keep going despite all evidence that it’s a bad idea. It’s something you learn in competitive sports, but I never played them much—or wanted to. I’m learning it now, in a fight class, but it’s hard to battle so many years of trying to be “nice.”

The problem is, nobody likes “nice” people that much. They say they do, but they would rather spend time with the feisty ones. And how many guys struggle with being labeled the “nice guy”? If being nice is so great, then why are there buttons reading “No more Mr. Nice Guy”? If someone’s in your face, telling you to be nicer, then that person is trying to manipulate you so that she can get what she wants. It’s that simple.

posted by Price of Silence @ 9:13 PM