I don't raise my voice

For as long as I can remember I’ve never been one to raise my voice during an argument.

Not I.

Now don’t get me wrong, when I’m picking around with someone I have no qualms about raising my voice, but there is something about the sincerity of an argument that gives me pause.

Growing up, we ate etiquette for breakfast, which is precisely why I have a low tolerance for poor manners.

I get it honest.

As I’ve mentioned previously, the women in my family have exceptional moral strength and that especially impacts how they approach the people of the world.

Four generations of strong southern women.
(Great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, sister and me in 2006)

Therefore, they have influenced, and really dictated, how I interact with the people of the world.

From a young age it was ingrained in my brain that we (southern women) don’t raise our voices when we are mad.

It’s the same principle taught to young children – we use our words instead of throwing a conniption.

Of course, we all fall of the wagon sometimes, but I try my damndest to not ever raise my voice in a serious situation.

I love that as a southern woman I was raised to take the high road and always try to articulate my thoughts in a respectful manner.

I’ve found that this lesson has been applicable to every aspect of my life and I couldn’t be more thankful for it.

So if you ever see a look of anger flash across my face, just know that my inner monologue is going something like this:

“Breath Megan. Use your big girl words. Do not be brash. Do not say anything unnecessarily rude, even if they do deserve it. You’re riding the high road and it would hurt to fall. Breath.”

But bless your heart, if you see me lose my pearls then all bets are off and you best run for the hills.

Just kidding! ... my gun is much smaller than that :-)