Shark in the Water

The day I learned to protect my peace, I began with a simple request. I was upset and wanted to talk about it. Little did I know, I had jumped in the tank. At the first sign of my vulnerability, the shark saw her opportunity to strike, and I watched in disbelief as her eyes went black. She lashed out at me, again, and again. She enjoyed upsetting me more.

A covert narcissist is defined as someone appearing fragile and weak who, in addition to other traits, enjoys the suffering of others. They enjoy the control, and dismiss all other concerns as inconsequential.

Holding onto honor, love, and what I know to be right, I stood up for all of it. And as I did I watched the look of a predator turn to glee. But I didn’t collapse. I didn’t back down. I kept moving forward, and the shark couldn’t hold her water. She had lost what control she thought she had of the conversation, and swam away.

I was stunned at this encounter. My protector, so-called, failed to protect. She was the ‘victim’ here. As she always is. So very many ‘mistreat’ her. So very many are in the wrong. So very many have set boundaries and moved away from her damaging presence.

Protecting my peace has now become a practice, more than a decision. The lesson that began that day taught me that there are people in the world who will show you exactly who they are, validating that gut-feeling you had that something was off. And even though they may take someone you love with them, the boundary you set is not an act of hostility. And it is not an act of retreat.

It is an act of preservation.

I recognized the shark, for it was a relative of others that I’d encountered before. Their dismissiveness and desire for control fooled my young mind. They twisted it, and caused lasting trauma. But this mind, and this heart, are no longer young. They are no longer foolish.

I’ll stand in the presence of sharks no more.

No offense to actual sharks intended.