I'm still drawn to the grownup children of violence -- the people who keep secrets and show off lies -- but I keep them at a safe distance and politely decline to play. I have a strict and repressive code of conduct for myself, and I will not fight, nor debate, nor will I even speak to people who might cause me to fall down again, to follow that reckless, thoughtless slide down into the rage.
Those of us who grew up fighting know each other without telling these stories, we can smell it maybe, or perhaps see it in a way a hand rests on a table. Maybe we hold our bodies differently, maybe the message crosses our faces before we even know that we have given the secret away. I do not consciously try to convey information with my body, but I've never been harassed by strangers. When I walk through a large crowd people move swiftly out of my way.
by Bee Lavender, from Lessons In Taxidermy
Soft Skull Press, 2005
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