Beating myself up

CoffeeCup[dropcap custom_class="normal"] T [/dropcap]his morning at my usual coffee shop a guy asked if he could share my table. It was a wide four-top, and while I tend to spread out, I certainly didn’t need all the space, so I said sure. I kept working on my laptop. Until the table began to shake lightly.

I glanced up. My tablemate had his cup of joe in one hand, his cell phone in the other. He was listening to music through some (really big) headphones – and tapping to the beats on the table.

I was annoyed.

I mumbled in my head.

I felt myself getting worked up.

I complained on Facebook about it. (I do love social media. Instant support!)

After about fifteen minutes, I packed up and left. (He was still there, apparently oblivious.)

And now, I’m kinda pissed at myself. It had been my table. My space he entered. (As much as a table at a coffee shop can be, at least.) And rather than say something to him, I retreated. What is it in some of us that keeps us from speaking up? That keeps us from standing our ground? Really, I should have been able to look up, catch his eye, and ask him (politely, of course) to (please) stop tapping the table. How hard would that have been?

But I couldn’t. I. Just. Couldn’t. I didn’t want to be seen as rude. Or bitchy. Or imposing on his activities. It was easier (at the time) to be all cranky about it, and ultimately, change not only my mood, but my plans.

I don’t want to be that person.

I want to be the person who has enough respect for herself that she can choose to be as important as those around her, and who can ask for what she needs in any situation.

I want to be the person who others respect, and who are willing to honor my needs, and consider my wants.

I want to be the person who can look conflict in the eye, no matter how big or how small, and come nose to nose with it.

I want to show up in my life. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every single moment.

Seems I have some work to do.