I Tried to Be the Bigger Person (Turns Out I’m 5’4)

I Tried to Be the Bigger Person (Turns Out I’m 5’4)

There comes a moment in every adult’s life when they decide to be the bigger person.

And I don’t mean spiritually.

I mean the kind where you take a deep breath, feel your jaw tighten, and say,

“Okay. I’m going to handle this maturely.”

Which is code for:

I would like to scream, but instead I will drink water and blink aggressively.

It always starts the same.

Someone says something sideways.

Not fully disrespectful.

Just… tilted.

Like a picture frame that’s 2 degrees off.

You see it.

You feel it.

Your nervous system immediately drafts a 7-page response.

But instead, you say:

“That’s interesting.”

Because you are growth.

You are evolution.

You are trying not to catch a charge.

And then your body betrays you.

Your left eye twitches.

Your jaw locks like a medieval gate.

Your shoulders rise to your ears like they’re trying to escape the conversation entirely.

Internally?

You are writing a TED Talk titled:

“Respect: A Beginner’s Guide.”

Being the bigger person is exhausting.

Do you know how much core strength it takes

to not send that text?

To not say,

“Actually…”

To not respond with,

“Per my last emotional boundary…”

It’s CrossFit for the soul.

No equipment.

Just vibes.

And suppressed commentary.

And let’s talk about “taking the high road.”

The high road is not scenic.

The high road is lonely.

The high road has no snacks.

Meanwhile the low road?

Fully catered.

Charcuterie board of pettiness.

Freshly sliced sarcasm.

And I’m up here eating almonds of restraint.

Unsalted.

But here’s the twist.

You calm down.

Your breath slows.

Your body realizes it is not in fact being chased by a bear — just by someone’s unprocessed childhood.

And suddenly…

You’re not reacting.

You’re observing.

You’re steady.

You’re sitting in your chair like:

“Oh. I see what this is.”

That’s when it hits.

The real flex

isn’t domination.

It’s regulation.

Now don’t get me wrong.

I will still rehearse arguments in the shower.

I will win them.

Brilliantly.

There will be applause.

Possibly a small orchestra.

But in real life?

I sip my water.

I blink.

I say, “Got it.”

And somewhere deep inside my nervous system

a tiny Lioness stretches, yawns,

and chooses not to chase squirrels today.

Growth.

And honestly?

Half the time when I’m about to react,

I pause and ask myself:

“Is this worth my cortisol?”

Nine times out of ten?

Absolutely not.

My peace has a cover charge now.

Cash only.

And can we discuss the internal negotiation?

Because the real drama isn’t external.

It’s the committee meeting in your head.

There’s the Mature One with a clipboard.

The Petty One in hoop earrings.

The Therapist Voice saying, “Name the trigger.”

And the Inner Child holding a juice box whispering, “Do it.”

They are not aligned.

At all.

Meanwhile your face is calm.

You nod like a well-adjusted adult.

But internally it’s a full courtroom trial.

Exhibit A: That Tone.

Exhibit B: The Audacity.

Exhibit C: The Screenshot You Absolutely Did Not Take But Definitely Took.

And just when Petty is about to grab the microphone…

Regulated You leans back in the chair.

Crosses her legs.

And says,

“We’re not doing this today.”

The entire nervous system sighs like it just avoided a group chat explosion.

Growth looks suspiciously like restraint.

And restraint?

Is undefeated.

So here’s to all of us

trying to be mature

while still wanting to send paragraphs.

Here’s to breathing through it

instead of burning it down.

Here’s to sitting in our chairs

feeling our feet

and choosing dignity

over dramatic reenactments.

Even though…

The reenactments would be iconic.

—Flower InBloom