Hot friday

Taking a deep breath, I look at myself in the mirror one last time. Yes, maybe I bought this short purple leggings to emphasize the good shape of my buttocks - which endured quite well the passage into the 40's - and show off a bit my athletic and very female legs. And maybe I also picked this white crop top from the wardrobe to arouse the guy in the other room and distract him while he was working. But I promise to myself that I'm not planning anything sexual...probably the opposite! I go downstairs, where Jonathan is lifting a big wooden box. His arm is left uncovered by the tank top, and the muscles of the upper side are flexed for the physical labour. He is barefooted, following my house's rules, and wears denim shorts that leave his large legs almost fully unclothed. The brown hair swings in the air like leaves blowing in the wind, despite the lack of drafts in the room, and his green eyes wander aimlessly like abandoned meadows. I don't know him well, but I feel, deep in my heart, that this guy is unhappy...I can't say, however, whether my daughter is somehow part of the reasons behind this sadness. "Almost done..." he says, spotting me on the room's edge and discharging that heavy weight. "Good, thank you Jonathan, your help is much appreciated!", I reply, getting closer.

This is the right moment to elicit a reaction. "I couldn't have made it without you. Whatever sport you do, it helped you to develop a strong body. It's strange because most of the martial arts that I know depend on agility and technique more than strength. Yours is probably more physical and less technical. Anyway, I thought a lot about what you said and I reached the conclusion that you hold this old-fashioned viewpoint about martial arts because of your background. It's pretty obvious that if you muscle out your opponents in MMA there is no chance for females. But what martial arts teach you is to compensate for the lack of power with the right approach...this is why they are a form of art and not vulgar brawl". The guy laughs and nods his head. "Mrs Jenkins, I mean no offense, but we've talked it through. You know nothing about MMA, don't pretend that you do. I can see that you have some deeply rooted feminist convictions, and you're entitled to live in your fantasy world. The point is that most of the martial arts existing out there are just useless dances, and I'm sure that in every field where there's a physical contest the female class is separate".

I need to go on the counter offensive, but the memory of what my sensei said is still alive in my mind. "Well, this is just patriarchy. And as a young man, you should be immune from this narrative...I regularly fight men and always win, even if I'm smaller!". That was not entirely true but I need weapons to win the argument. "Always?", he asks, facing me and stressing our different sizes. "Always!", I retort, not withdrawing. "That sound pretty weird...maybe you'll show me how one day...", he smirks. "Even now if you want...", I retort, triyng to dissimulate the tension growing inside me. "Sure! Why not Mrs Jenkins, I'm curious...", he says, removing the black tank top and so displaying his powerful body. He looks powerful and intimidating....I'm sure that even a man would dither before him, let alone a woman. Taking a step back, I remove my shirt too, disclosing my athletic belly and my tight fitting bra. At the last minute, I wonder if I am prepared to face a guy so mighty and how shameful a defeat would be. But it's too late for second guesses.