The Powerlessness of Being Wrong
Power has always bothered me — or more specifically, powerlessness. I think that the power game of social interactions was something I began playing at a very young age, with the belief that, as a small child, I was the underdog. I remember that when I was five, I attended a preschool in Conway for a few months. I despised the teacher. One time I got in an argument with some friends about the difference between a couple and a few, maintaining that a couple referred to three things and a few to just two, and the children I argued with knew I was wrong. When we called the teacher over, she confirmed that my “opponents” were in the right, and I never forgave her for that. I didn’t care that it was an objective matter, and instead resented her power over me as an adult to define reality. I felt the social game was rigged because I was younger. I hated feeling powerless.