When asked to describe myself, my go-to response is:

You may not like what I have to say, but you’ll always know where I stand.

Which can often be a relationship-changer, and not always in a good way.

Expressing myself through words—written and spoken—has required immense resolve, and courage. As a result, I have my fair share of haters, mostly because they tried (and failed) to bully or intimidate me.

I’m not sure whether my haters actually hate me, secretly respect me, or are merely afraid that I will expose them and the truth.

Or maybe all of the above.

I have no choice but to push back against haters, mainly because I promised myself that my days of being bullied and intimidated were over a long time ago.

Now I have no choice but to stand up for what’s right—LOUD and proud, so that bullying or intimidating me will backfire on anyone who dares to try.

It doesn’t take a mathematician to figure out that bullies and intimidators = haters. And haters = chronic fault-finders who bully and intimidate others because they are insecure, jealous, and feel “less than” in their own lives.

As a result, when the bullies and intimidators, i.e., haters, try to come for me, I deliberately deploy my words to level the playing field. My intention is not to wield power or hold it over anyone, but to protect myself from those who try to wield power over me.

At my age, my thinking is threefold:

• The haters can bully and intimidate me only if I let them.
• What do I have left to lose that I haven’t already lost?
• I can out-roar and out-charge the best of them.

I learned the hard way that being vulnerable in my words and actions can only take me so far. And sometimes people mistake my willingness to be vulnerable for a weakness—at their peril.

My courage to share my vulnerable side does not equate to timidity.

Rather, it is the opposite.

Yes, my courage helps me open up, be vulnerable, and share my weaknesses, but it can also bring out the charging bear in me.

You come for me and mine, and I come for you 2.0.

Don’t poke the bear.

Protecting myself and my loved ones with my voice and words is my forever armor, so bullies, intimidators = haters, beware.

And let’s be honest, no matter what I say or don’t say, haters will always try to stir the pot. That’s what they do.

So let them take their best shot. Let’s see how it works out for them. And if they choose to roar, they should brace for a thunderous echo.

Because the cost of hiding behind a carefully managed self is no longer an option for me, and hasn’t been for quite some time.

And anyway, I want to be the kind of writer—and woman—who isn’t afraid to write—or speak—about who I am, how I feel, and what I will and won’t tolerate.

I want to be remembered not only as a woman who uses words to expose my fragility but also as a warrior who uses them to challenge the hierarchy.

The kind of Teri-truth-telling that risks being vilified for using my not-so-nice words to put people who are legends in their own minds in their place, both written and spoken.

Not because I think I’m masterful at it, but as a raw, visceral presence, like “Don’t F with me because you’re not as tough or important as you think you are, which is why you have no power over me.”

Proverbs 28:15 warns that a wicked ruler over a poor people is like a roaring lion and a charging bear.