I was bullied at school. No one would believe that of me today as I present a self-assured social presence. In school I was not only painfully shy and horribly self-conscious, but I was the new kid at six different schools due to parental career-moves. Horses saved me, but that is a post for another day.
As I have gone through the post-school years of my life I have found that I have an exceptional radar for bullying. I have intervened a couple of times in deteriorating situations of spousal abuse and was glad to be knocked on my ass as it enabled me to file a legal complaint when the wife who had been lying in fetal position on the ground, to protect herself from her husband's blows,refused to admit to the police that anything was wrong.
I have also spoken up at horse shows whenever I have seen a rider unjustly blame his horse and inflict retribution outside the arena for a poor performance. Sometimes this was in my limited version of whatever the local language was and I have berated the indigenous that they leave such interventions to foreigners. I once had an employer who confessed he was ashamed that it was I, not he, who had spoken up. I admired him for that.
This said, I have a hard time still, speaking up for transgressions against myself. I am inclined to rationalize an other's bad behavior and prefer to let slide or wait out the storm. This misleads some people into thinking I am a pushover. I just prefer to back away from conflict until we reach my line in the sand.
Today was one of those days. Hubby is annoyed and put out that we have two extra dogs. It inconveniences him that he must use the front door key instead of the garage door opener. He is feeling neglected in his narcissistic little universe. Whaa, whaa, whaa!
It was made clear to him today that there is a distinct sandy line in front of him, despite his tantrums. The choice is his.