On the first strike, too. I raised my right hand once … twice … then slammed it down on the board.
This will sound like bragging, but it’s not … it’s my truth: I knew I would do it.
It was only everyone else who looked surprised.
Three black belts were suddenly looking at me with expressions of amazement and delight.
My son was eyeing me warily.
“No more whining about homework,” I said. And smiled.
Maybe people mistakenly fail to accord power to middle-aged women.
Maybe I have more tightly focused rage than I realized.
Whatever the case … it felt awesome, in every sense of the word.
I checked my right hand a few minutes later, and there wasn’t even a mark on it. It looked exactly like the just-minding-my-own-business left hand.
You don't have to break a board to prove your power, girlfriends.
It's already in you.
Just let it out.