Why I Don’t Speak Up

Today on my way home, I got off the bus at my usual stop. I noticed a little girl who seemed to be following her mom. They looked like they had just come from Walmart. The mother was walking about 7 meters ahead of her daughter, carrying two Walmart bags, while the daughter was also struggling with two bags. At first, I didn’t notice anything unusual, but as I continued to follow them, I saw that the little girl was struggling with the bags. The straps were too long, so she either had to drag them on the ground or hoist them over her shoulders.

I was listening to music, but something made me curious, so I took out my earbuds. I could immediately hear the girl crying. It seemed she had been crying for a while, and her mom was ignoring her. Concerned, I trotted up and yelled, “Hey!” The mother turned around, and I asked her, “Can’t you hear her?” She snapped back, saying something like, “I hear her, mind your own business.” I shouted at her, “Your daughter is crying, and you’re ignoring her!” She yelled back, “Get lost!” and “Mind your own business,” then stepped closer and said, “Back off!”

I stood my ground and didn’t move. She continued, apparently talking on the phone, saying something like, “Yeah, some jerk is getting in my face.” In my mind, I was standing up to an uncaring mom, so when she said, “Back off!” I responded, “No, stop moving toward me!” She then threatened, “Do you want me to call the cops?” I replied, “Go ahead, call the cops.” She claimed, “I just talked to someone, and they’re going to be here any second, and then you’ll be in trouble.” I told her, “I’m going to wait for the bus here,” since we were right beside my next bus stop. She demanded, “No! You’re going to wait way over there,” but I refused, saying, “No!”

After staring each other down, I walked 10 feet to the bench and sat down. I think she was calling someone to come after me because she said, “I’m calling someone, and they’re going to mess you up.” I ignored her, and eventually, she walked away with her daughter in tow. I spent the next few minutes shaking in fear, watching every car that pulled up. When the bus finally came, I got on and was relieved to leave.

But I worry about what might happen tomorrow or the next day. We obviously take the same bus and get off at the same stop. I hope I don’t get hurt.

This experience highlights the challenges I often face in everyday interactions. The fear of misunderstanding and being judged prevents me from speaking up in many situations, even when I believe I am right. FASD affects everything I do and say, which is why I often remain silent.