Musing...
A thought came to me today as I was recalling the events in the convention.

I was heading for the elevator to make my way to the lower level when an american stepped past me and rudely knocked my bag down. I verbally exclaimed a "Hey! Easy!" and he never even glanced back to check what happened.

And I let him leave.
I didn't argue. I didn't yell back. I didn't tell him off about manners and apologies.

Always wondered why I can't seem to just get off my martyr stance. For some reason, its so much easier for me to just accept the responsibility and guilt associated with certain events rather than to stand up and say "Damn it, fuck you for doing that to me!" Does it come from my upbringing as a second child, having to constantly demote myself when my brother likes something i wanted? Does it come from the Catholic upbrining I had where the idea that I should be meek and willing to suffer? Is it rooted to my eternal desire to please others since I just love making others happy?

Some people have the gonads to tell others off.
A car cuts my brother while he's driving and he can yell out "Fuck you!" to show his anger. Me, I'd seethe and grumble frustrated but keep it within. Perhaps I'd lash out, but it tends to be at the wrong people. A stranger puffs cigarette smoke to my calssmate's face and she'd tell him off and yell at him to put the fucking thing out. Me, I'd probably just bear it and grumble about it when I get the chance to do so beyond earshot.

I'm a pathetic coward with a martyr complex.
And I have a permanent desire to make others happy.

I need some backbone, it seems.
Anyone got some to spare?