It is the moment after the first slap – after palm has slid harshly across cheek, that a woman must decide if she will allow herself to become victim, or strive to become victor. Often, the choice comes down to what the woman struck wants.
Does she want to best her rival?
To punish her?
Or does she simply want the rivalry, the competition, the hatred shared between each to end. In pursuit of the latter, allowing herself to be attacked, wounded, and embarrassed, to such a degree that her enemy will have purged the demons that plagued her.
Make no mistake, however, there is courage to such a decision. As there is no promise of mercy – no guarantee of a guilt-driven softness, only of pain – only of tears, and a demand of subjugated service, of a type the lesser woman cannot know until it is upon her.