A Woman Scorned: On Setting Boundaries

Last night a drunk man said something disrespectful to me.  He failed to honor me and uphold the dignity of my womanhood.  In such cases Al-Anon would recommend the setting of boundaries, refusing to accept unacceptable behavior, having the courage to change the things we can.  Here's what happened.  Before I knew it, the words "How dare you!" flew out of my mouth, and I slapped him--hard--across the face.

This is not the Al-Anon way.  And I don't necessarily advise such actions.  Nor do I necessarily discourage them.  An intoxicated alcoholic is not going to hear, "I don't like it when you say such things to me," no matter how assertively you say it.  There is room in recovery for the honest, gut reaction.  Hell hath no fury like the wrath of a woman scorned, the old adage goes.  It is never a good idea to hit a physically abusive person. You could really get hurt if he retaliates.  But if he is not in a rage, but is rather in a docile but assinine state, the result of a firm slap, as in this case, could be stunned silence and the restoration of some humility.  Such a slap is shorthand for, "Show some respect!"  It was better than throwing myself into a screaming fit.  This was a relatively calm slap, done with some semblance of control.  It isn't easy to make an impression on a drunk man.  Of course, the mature, Christian, Twelve Step response would be to just simply walk away from the situation and discuss it when the man is sober.  That is what I officially advise.  But let me tell you a story.

The last time I slapped a man was 20 (or so) years ago.  I was dating a frat boy in college, and we went to an organized fraternity party, a dance with food, where the guys brought dates.  This was a respectable event, but everyone was drinking.  Well, I had had problems with a member of the fraternity, Haus, for a long time.  He was always picking on me, and he started up again that night.  Now, Haus was a big guy, intimidating.  But my natural, woman-scorned instinct was to haul off and slap that big bully across the shit-eating grin on his face.  I had had enough, and enough is enough.  Haus said nothing.  He was stunned.  And he never bullied me again.  In fact, he bragged about me to anyone who would listen.  He admired me, and we became friends.  A woman with a little bit of Elizabeth Taylor bombshell in her is not a bad thing.  To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.  Perhaps there is even a time for a good, hard slap across the face.

 Liz Taylor