Pregnant Lady Humiliates Roybert

Social structures and norms intrigue me, partially because I don’t find them obvious. I work(ed) especially hard to understand them. Also, I find exceptions to rules interesting enough to pursue further study. Topics outside the Physical Sciences eluded me until after starting therapy (late 2013). I didn’t have the foresight or opportunity (perhaps “reality” describes it better) of pursuing the Arts and Humanities—at least not the way I think they should be experienced; I resent that. However, I’m here now, so… yeah… This essay’s about an observation of mine, a heuristic I derived using my experiences, and an (ostensible?) exception to that heuristic…

Vulnerability and accountability cross my mind frequently. The two appear linked from both social and societal perspectives. These observations inform my morals. Whenever power imbalances exist between the actors in a situation, I notice the following more often than not: the weaker actor bears less accountability than the stronger—at least when concerning morals. People flaunt wokeness and leverage this asymmetry to further their agendas; this irritates me, but that’s not what this essay’s about… As promised, this is about an exception to the rule: my first—and hopefully last—altercation with a pregnant lady… 

Here’s the example: if a pregnant lady kicked me in the stomach, I doubt society would fault her for it. Rather, they’d default to, “What did that monster (me) do to that poor pregnant lady?” Conversely, society would crucify me if the roles were reversed—admittedly for good reason too…

I kicked a pregnant lady in the stomach once. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m not proud of it. I can’t recall the events, but the regret—and humiliation—from that one mistake will follow me until I die… It all happened so fast… <(இ_இ”)>

According to her account, it happened unannounced. She alleges that I kicked her unprovoked. Furthermore, she insists that I kicked her multiple times during the incident. She’s disturbingly vocal about it. She brings it up repeatedly and won’t let it go. Initially, I thought she was gaslighting me. I sometimes wonder if the altercation even happened. Unfortunately, others attest to the veracity of her claims, so I’ve just accepted them—despite my inability to remember. I still balk at taking responsibility for that behaviour because I can’t believe I could do something so heinous. It frustrates me that I’m held responsible for something I can’t remember, but I understand why I need to repent and make amends… Look, I’m just glad nobody got hurt and that we’ve moved past it. Things could’ve been a lot worse…

If you can believe it, she’s not even upset about it; she’s clearly forgiven me. Contrarily, she talks about incident fondly—with a (depraved) air of nostalgia that I’d attribute only to a deranged individual.

Society is so unjust. I’ll never live this down… I’m disappointed in myself. I apologize for my disgusting behaviour.

Photo 1—The alleged incident. She brazenly laughs at me; how humiliating. (Photo credit: my dad…?)
Photo 2—After about a few months of incarceration, I learned my lesson and was released on parole: I jumped at the opportunity. I was carefully monitored for about twenty years after… That’s the face of a hardened criminal. (Photo credit: ??)

Note 1: I hope you realize this is a joke. I may be a monster, but I have morals double standards… The pregnant lady was my mom. The incident occurred before I was born.

Note 2: I’m releasing the second part—of the article series I started yesterday—tomorrow (08:00 EST). I figured I’d release this lighthearted post before I tackle something heavy… <(ப_ப”)> 


Published by justcallmeroybert

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