Confrontation (1)

Confrontation: come face to face with (someone) with hostile or argumentative intent.

I don't like confrontation. Any amount of it. Any dose. I dislike confrontation more than I dislike almonds, and I once spat out a cake because it had an almond jelly in it. I'm not one to waste food, so you know that's a big deal. At the start of the year, I had to text someone requesting a large room in my new house for the year. It was a house that I had found, organised the viewings for and was the lead tenant of, mind you. And I couldn't even bring myself to send the message that I had laboured over, my friend had to send the message. As she hit send, I was beginning to sweat, wondering if it was all going to be OK. Was the receiver going to read it as me being rude, or bitchy? What was the aftermath going to be? Would they ostracize me? Did I even deserve to be asking for that room?

As I write this, I'm coming to a realisation of where this fear of confrontation comes from. It comes from the sad and lonely place of little Beck. Beck, who had to try so hard to fit in with all the Italian girls in primary school who were fairer than her. The girls who had easier hair. Who were shorter than her and had more angelic smiles. (My mum would strongly contest that description). Then being in secondary school and my first group of friends turning their backs on me for no reason, chasing me home one day after school and pulling on my coat. It always seemed to me that when I was finally comfortable with a group of friends they would change. Either they'd realise that I wasn't cool enough for them, or I would realise that they weren't good for me. Either way, I'd be by myself again, on the search for a new group of souls to bond with before ultimately failing.

So, my dislike of confrontation is more a fear of messing up the order, changing the status quo. Saying the wrong thing... when I'm simply trying to get what I deserve in life. Because people who aren't my family rarely ever put me first or consider what I need. Because every time I think about confronting someone about something, I have an evaluation in my mind. Is the issue more important than their friendship? It's always an either-or.

A friendship where I get what I want, and they stay friends with me? Impossible.

Unfortunately for my parents and siblings, I know that they love me. My siblings, I'm sceptical sometimes, but I mainly know they love me. As a result, when it comes to them, I can be as confrontational as I want without the fear of them turning their backs. I know my siblings will give it right back to me, and that my parents will stop it in its tracks. I also know that in an hour – or maximum a week if I'm the one who's annoyed – we'll be right back to how we were before it started. That any dispute or awkwardness won't be the end of our relationship. Because we're stronger than that. Our relationship is more than me moulding myself to fit their desires and panicking whenever I say something slightly ruder than good friendly neighbourhood Beck.

So, what's been the point of all of this? From now on, I'm going to be less confrontational with my family and more confrontational with my friends. Not in the bad way of just fighting with people every time something slightly annoys me but when I want something that I think I deserve, I'm going to say it. Even when I just think it would be nice. With my chest, with no regrets and I'm not going to sweat buckets.

Maybe just one.

2 Years On: I wish I could say that I was fixed. That every time someone wrongs me I speak up. I don't. But I definitely speak up more, when someone expects more than I'm willing to give, I say no. I carve out my priorities. Maybe because of lockdown there have been less situations to be confrontational about, but I have a voice. And I use it.

I use it when I'm sorting out my society. I use it when I'm booking a place to eat for my friends. I use it when I simply have a film suggestion. It's weak and growing. But it's there.