As he continued his cruel tirade, his voice dripping with disdain, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain composed. I realized that this was a pivotal moment — a chance to stand up for myself and transform the narrative he had crafted to humiliate me. I would not leave this restaurant with my dignity shattered.
With a steady voice, I interrupted him mid-sentence. “You know,” I began, my voice carrying over the clatter of cutlery and whispers of nearby diners, “it’s truly tragic that someone can be so outwardly charming yet so ugly on the inside.” The room seemed to quiet down, all eyes on us, as I continued, “I may not meet your superficial standards, but I am proud of who I am, and I refuse to let your words define me.”
