I wouldn’t necessarily say I have a fiery redhead temper.
I wouldn’t necessarily claim to be a redhead.
Of course I boil at social injustice, cruelty to animals, a jerk boss and idiot drivers. But I’m talking spitting out, take-that-you-little-bastard anger. I’ve never hit another person (save a bullying brother or two in childhood) and rarely yell and scream (just the good kind, that which evokes God's name). I don’t express anger that way. But when it comes, in those momentary flashes it’s hurtful and mean. Downright chastising.
The worst of my temper flares when lied too. I choose to believe what is told me, when asked, until proven otherwise. I assume words and motives to be genuine.
The concept is utopian at best, naïve at worst. I’m actually shocked to uncover a lie or half-truth, similar to how I’m truly stunned each time I don’t win the Powerball. Years ago, a tarot card reader told me someone close to me, a man, would deceive me. I peeshawed and “oh pleased” the notion, deceit an impossibility from someone I’d given trust to in both hands. Looking back, I don’t think he deceived me; he just fell in love with someone else.
Lying angers me because it assumes one to be stupid, unaware. I imagine what parents go through, especially the cool hip ones, since kids pulling wool is a rite of passage. Watched (and was on the receiving end) of some from my nieces and nephew and it drove me batty; also provided a good chuckle given their modus operandi paled to our teenage rebel rousing. We had Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill, after all.
For many years too many, I didn’t believe myself empirically beautiful or was allowed the protection of unconditional love, but I could hold tight to smarts. So when something is revealed as disingenuous or false, I fall back down the rabbit hole to marginalized or inconsequential. And I get angry, then red faced by embarrassment. Like many too many, mine’s a past chock full of anger, and I don’t like my voice like that.
I ask for the truth and don't tempt or fish for something that's not. I never, ever ask the question “Do I look fat in this?” and only answer “Does size matter?” with the utmost of care.
Because I cannot tell a lie.