|By Jill Greenberg|
When I was young, if I was winning an argument with my Dad, he would start to be mean. He would get rough-tempered, while insisting that he was right. I would get indignant and assert my more carefully thought through opinion, because I knew it was right. After a while I would start to cry with frustration. Then he would start laughing and say: Yes, yes, have it your way, you're right, don't worry about it. I would feel angry and confused. I knew I was right but I felt like my Dad was still winning, cuz he had only capitulated over the argument on emotional grounds, not on intellectual grounds.
When I realised what it was that my Dad was doing to me, I swore I would never cry while arguing with a man again. Occasionally I would find myself putting my point of view clearly and quietly with a man who would become so angry at his failure to make me cry that I would become fearful he might hit me. There was no going back. When I cry these days, it's not because I can't convince someone-else of the error of their ways although I sometimes say: "Sure. Have it your way, I'm not worried about it."