The other night, as I prepared for bed, I followed my usual routine: checking the locks, switching off the lights, and giving my sleeping child a gentle kiss on the forehead. This nightly ritual is almost second nature, and while I reached for the thermostat to crank up the air conditioning, my mind wandered to the book I was eager to dive into. I really hoped it was on my nightstand and not still in the car.
Just as I stood in front of the thermostat, finger poised to tap the touchscreen, I glanced up and—SCORPION. There it was, perched on the wall, mere inches from my hand and at eye level. Its pale yellow, jointed tail was wriggling in the most disgusting way. My heart raced, and I felt a jolt of pure panic.
You have no idea how much I detest these creatures. Is there a stronger word than detest? Because I would use it here. Sure, I know they’re part of nature, but they give me the creeps! Seriously, if every scorpion in existence vanished in a dramatic fashion, I wouldn’t shed a tear. In fact, I’d lead a chorus of fellow scorpion-haters celebrating our newfound freedom to walk barefoot in our homes without fear.
But alas, the scorpions are still around, and this one was ruining my peaceful evening. I was terrified, yet somehow managed to let out a long, drawn-out expletive.
You might be thinking, “Emily, you’ve lived in this house for years. You’ve encountered scorpions before; why the panic?” You’re right. But there’s a big difference now—I’m navigating this life alone. In my married days, I could scream and summon my husband for a quick stomp of the scorpion threat. Or, if I was alone, I could trap it under a box and leave the situation for someone else to handle.
Being single for several months now, this scorpion was the ultimate test of my post-divorce resilience. Juggling work and caring for my energetic child? Managing finances? Learning to cope with the emotional fallout of divorce while showing my son what healthy co-parenting looks like? Those were mere warm-up exercises. This scorpion was my final exam in bravery.
I had to conquer this challenge. I am a woman, hear me roar, or at least hear me swallow my fear. I dashed to my closet, grabbed a sturdy pair of platform wedges, and returned to face my foe. ONE (deep breath), TWO (raise the shoe), THREE (stop counting, Emily, or you’ll collapse in tears), GO!
With a swift motion, I knocked that scorpion off its perch and onto the floor. It attempted to scurry away, but I was determined. Forget the celebration songs; what came out of my mouth was a primal battle cry—AY-YAY-AY-YAY! I swung that wedge like a warrior brandishing a sword, knowing that my home—and my sense of security—depended on this moment.
The scorpion met its demise on the first hit, but I gave it two more for good measure. I wasn’t taking any chances; I wasn’t about to let this creature rise again like some horror movie villain. Three solid whacks later, it was definitely toast.
Yes! I had triumphed! I started doing a victory dance—one that resembled the awkward moves of a wedding guest who’s had too much punch—when I heard a small voice behind me.
“Mom, did you get it?” My son, in his pajamas, stood with wide eyes, clearly anxious about the whole ordeal.
“I got it, buddy. I was scared, but I handled it,” I reassured him, and he relaxed into a smile.
“Good job protecting us, Mom! You’re a killer of scorpions!” he cheered, wrapping his little arms around me. In that moment, I remembered something I tell him often: being brave doesn’t mean not feeling fear. It means facing that fear head-on.
With my arm around him, I glanced at my hand still clutching the scorpion-slaying shoe. I can do this. I can be brave. I am a killer of scorpions.
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Summary
In the gripping tale of a single mother confronting her worst fear—a scorpion—Emily recounts her battle not just against the creepy creature but also against the challenges of single motherhood. Through her terrifying experience, she learns that true bravery involves facing fears, and with her son cheering her on, she realizes she can overcome any obstacle.
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