I clearly do not like being told what to do
A paramilitary tried to train me for a cross country run once. I thought running with someone else would be fun.
The clue was in the fact he was paramilitary. As a result, he thought barking at me to run faster, run backwards, slow down, go faster, would motivate me. I stopped about 2k in and said I wasn’t going to do anymore. He did the whole, “Don’t quit on me now!” soldier bollocks that might get a different person hyped up and grunting like a frat boy.
I just stopped turned around and started running in the opposite direction.
“I know you’re type.” he said when he caught up to me. “Don’t like being told what to do.”
He was right. I don’t like being told what to do. I don’t like being yelled at. I definitely don’t like the combo with the added stress of an increased heart rate when I am covered in sweat.
Before I could wheeze something offensive at him he pulled out some ninja death stars and a butterfly knife, and said we could go and practice being ninjas in the park instead.
Funnily enough I didn’t mind being told how to throw a knife.
My dad says I always have to be difficult. Do things the hard way. Or the weird way.
Maybe he’s right.
It’s unfortunate we seem to be so diametrically opposed in our approaches to life.
I never considered the tattoos, piercings, short hair, red hair, late nights, drunk nights, or any of the rest of it an act of rebellion. I was just doing what I wanted to do. It just so happened there was someone on the opposite side telling me not to do it.
Is that what makes it rebellion?
Discussing the topic with a friend she told me of her own rebellion: joining the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
It was a bizarre situation.
Her parents thought she needed spiritual guidance. Unfortunately it’s rare to get a Hindu priest knocking on your door.
Cue the change of religion.
I’m still not clear what they hoped to achieve by having the nice Watchtower ladies talk to her once a week. Maybe they thought they would calm her down enough for Hindu control. I bet they didn’t expect her to join the Jehovah’s Witnesses though.
It took two years before she felt her point had been solidly proven and returned to being a happy agnostic.
Was this a completely necessary point to prove?
But when you’re a teen there’s the need to assert who you are. Followed by the notion you will slow down, calm down, or grow out of it.
Now that I’m older, I feel somewhat obliged to behave in a sensible moderate way. But the need to assert who we are isn’t something confined to our hormonal teens.
There’s no one really telling me what to do anymore. Only my brain.
Well brain, I do what I want.