They aren’t always what you think.
My first thought upon witnessing my son punch a classmate this evening when I picked him up? I wondered what it felt like to do that? Because if I did it as a child, I don’t remember.
The time I do remember was in Fifth grade. My friends dared me to pick a fight with someone, anyone, so I walked up to the fattest kid in my class, Mandy Darton, and punched him in the stomach as hard as I could.
It was weird, because I felt like hit him pretty hard. If you’ve ever done it or had it done to you, you know what it feels like. There’s a weight, a mass a body has, the firmness of it. So I hit him pretty hard.
He didn’t even react. Except to counter with a right to my midsection that felt like a mule kick, knocking the wind out of me and dropping me to my knees in the dirt.
I’ve never punched anyone since.