Self Defence
When I was little my older brother took great delight in torturing me, teasing me and generally scaring the living daylights out of me. The thing I dreaded most was impromptu leaping out from behind doorways with a skin-peeling yell. It was, for a few tumultuous years, day-to-day living with a psychomaniac. He referred to it wickedly as 'playing with my emotions'. To this day, I still push doors back to the wall before I enter a room. Always. I think that besides that fact he was a troubled, hyperactive youth with masochistic leanings, he was mostly doing it for my own good. Having been born to a different father, I had inherited the opposite extreme in personality traits. I was sedentary, melancholy, gentle, sweet and generally all things nice. My brother saw this as weakness and did his best to toughen me up. And although he may not have succeeded in instilling the warrior spirit and gun-toting prowess of Lara Croft in me he did introduce some very important principles in self-defence.
The first thing he taught me is that the best way to avoid a physical attack is to use your head to avoid a surprise attack in the first place. The random attacks out from behind doorways and walls that I endured were akin to Cato's attacks on Inspector Clouseau. In time I learnt to observe everything about a situation and to always observe the sum of the situation instead of blindly sailing through. The training was effective and soon I was taking great delight in determining when my brother was lurking behind a door and slamming it into his silly face. It wasn't long before the surprise attacks ceased but the lesson never left me and now I always listen to all the little cues that tell me that something is a bit awry about a place or a person.
Observation will help you avoid trouble but when trouble sneaks up on you from behind you the way you respond means everything. I was once walking to a train station in the early evening. Unusually, I was about fifteen minutes early for the train which I was going to catch so that I could do some grocery shopping in town. As I crossed the overpass I heard the sudden thumping of approaching footsteps. I turned calmly to face the danger. It was a young guy of rough appearance. He stopped as I made eye contact with him and asked me if I had the time. I told him with all the calm reassurance I could muster because I knew that he hadn't been sprinting to catch the train. He then went down to the station platform. I continued down after him because going back would demonstrate panic and would also lead me away from the reassuring glare of lights and security cameras. There was no-one else on the station. I positioned myself squarely in the blue line area. He paced up and down the station then came up to me and asked where I was going. I looked him in the eye and replied calmly, "The next station." He paced up and down again before asking, "What are going to do?" "Just to do some shopping." I replied again in an even tone that had an undertone of warning in it. He paced up and down again. My pulse was racing but I remained calm. "I spose you have $200 on ya?" He challenged. I felt my skin prickle. He was trying to see if I was worth the grab. "No, I don't have any money on me I'm getting cash out when I get there." I said testily. He paced again. I couldn't believe how long the train was taking to arrive. He came back. "Ya know I could just grab your purse right now and run." he said to me. This was a direct challenge. I had to call his bluff then and there. "No you wouldn't." I replied. "Why not?" he asked. "Cos there's cameras all over the place, you'd never get away with it." I said simply. Flinging a comment of disgust at me he finally skulked away. The lesson I took away from that was that confidence and quick thinking is a useful deterrent.
The second lesson I learnt was that a man's physical strength, no matter how successful the feminist movement has been, will generally overwhelm a woman's so fighting like a man is futile. My brother used to frustrate me by twisting my arm behind my back until I wailed helplessly, begging him to stop. When he released me and I turned to charge with fists flailing he would push against my head with the palm of his hand until he was satisfied with my humiliation. One day, I remember sitting at the table and he suddenly seized my little finger and pushed it backwards towards my wrist. I screamed in pain and glared at him angrily after he released it. But then in a sudden act of generosity he let me do the same thing to his own sizeable finger. With trepidation I pushed it as much as I dared. He laughed, "Try it harder." he said. "Don't be afraid of hurting me." So I pushed with vigor until he recoiled and I saw the flash of pain in his eyes. Fearing reprisal I swiftly removed my hands out of his reach. He explained to me then that no matter how horribly strong a man is, he has weak points that can instantly incapacitate him.
With recent sex attacks in Brisbane on the northside I can't help but hope that someone gets an opportunity to give these thugs a hell of a lot more than a dislocated finger. I also hope that if we all share tales of advice that it might add a bit of confidence to women out there like me because if we don't 'take back the night' then we are in danger of losing the day as well.
The first thing he taught me is that the best way to avoid a physical attack is to use your head to avoid a surprise attack in the first place. The random attacks out from behind doorways and walls that I endured were akin to Cato's attacks on Inspector Clouseau. In time I learnt to observe everything about a situation and to always observe the sum of the situation instead of blindly sailing through. The training was effective and soon I was taking great delight in determining when my brother was lurking behind a door and slamming it into his silly face. It wasn't long before the surprise attacks ceased but the lesson never left me and now I always listen to all the little cues that tell me that something is a bit awry about a place or a person.
Observation will help you avoid trouble but when trouble sneaks up on you from behind you the way you respond means everything. I was once walking to a train station in the early evening. Unusually, I was about fifteen minutes early for the train which I was going to catch so that I could do some grocery shopping in town. As I crossed the overpass I heard the sudden thumping of approaching footsteps. I turned calmly to face the danger. It was a young guy of rough appearance. He stopped as I made eye contact with him and asked me if I had the time. I told him with all the calm reassurance I could muster because I knew that he hadn't been sprinting to catch the train. He then went down to the station platform. I continued down after him because going back would demonstrate panic and would also lead me away from the reassuring glare of lights and security cameras. There was no-one else on the station. I positioned myself squarely in the blue line area. He paced up and down the station then came up to me and asked where I was going. I looked him in the eye and replied calmly, "The next station." He paced up and down again before asking, "What are going to do?" "Just to do some shopping." I replied again in an even tone that had an undertone of warning in it. He paced up and down again. My pulse was racing but I remained calm. "I spose you have $200 on ya?" He challenged. I felt my skin prickle. He was trying to see if I was worth the grab. "No, I don't have any money on me I'm getting cash out when I get there." I said testily. He paced again. I couldn't believe how long the train was taking to arrive. He came back. "Ya know I could just grab your purse right now and run." he said to me. This was a direct challenge. I had to call his bluff then and there. "No you wouldn't." I replied. "Why not?" he asked. "Cos there's cameras all over the place, you'd never get away with it." I said simply. Flinging a comment of disgust at me he finally skulked away. The lesson I took away from that was that confidence and quick thinking is a useful deterrent.
The second lesson I learnt was that a man's physical strength, no matter how successful the feminist movement has been, will generally overwhelm a woman's so fighting like a man is futile. My brother used to frustrate me by twisting my arm behind my back until I wailed helplessly, begging him to stop. When he released me and I turned to charge with fists flailing he would push against my head with the palm of his hand until he was satisfied with my humiliation. One day, I remember sitting at the table and he suddenly seized my little finger and pushed it backwards towards my wrist. I screamed in pain and glared at him angrily after he released it. But then in a sudden act of generosity he let me do the same thing to his own sizeable finger. With trepidation I pushed it as much as I dared. He laughed, "Try it harder." he said. "Don't be afraid of hurting me." So I pushed with vigor until he recoiled and I saw the flash of pain in his eyes. Fearing reprisal I swiftly removed my hands out of his reach. He explained to me then that no matter how horribly strong a man is, he has weak points that can instantly incapacitate him.
With recent sex attacks in Brisbane on the northside I can't help but hope that someone gets an opportunity to give these thugs a hell of a lot more than a dislocated finger. I also hope that if we all share tales of advice that it might add a bit of confidence to women out there like me because if we don't 'take back the night' then we are in danger of losing the day as well.
