Why You Should Stop Testing My Gangster

Let’s get one thing straight: I am a delight. I’m the person who says “bless you” when you sneeze in a quiet elevator. I’m the friend who remembers your coffee order and your dog’s birthday. On the outside, I am the human equivalent of a warm cup of chamomile tea.

But lately, some of you have been looking at my calm exterior and mistaking it for a “Free Trial” of my patience. And I’m here to tell you—the subscription is about to expire, and the premium version? You can’t afford it.

The “Free Trial” of My Patience

I hate when people try to test my gangster. Truly. It’s exhausting for me, and frankly, it’s dangerous for your ego.

There’s this weird social phenomenon where if you aren’t the loudest person in the room, people assume you’re either shy, pushover-adjacent, or just don’t have a backbone.

The High-Level Risk Assessment

It’s not because I don’t have anything to say. It’s because I am currently performing a high-level risk assessment of the situation. I am calculating how much energy it will take to explain why you’re wrong versus how much energy it will take to just blink slowly and wait for you to leave. Usually, the blinking wins.

But then… there’s that one person. You know the type. They keep poking. They take your silence as a green light to talk over you, disrespect your time, or—my personal favorite—try to “alpha” you in a meeting.

What Being “Gangster” Actually Means

Being “gangster” isn’t about wearing a leather jacket and looking tough (though I do look great in a leather jacket). To me, it’s about that inner reserve of Do Not Mess With Me. It’s the strength it takes to keep the lid on the jar when the contents are boiling.

Why I Choose Peace

I choose peace because:

1. Legal fees are expensive.
2. I have a reputation to uphold. People think I’m “sweet Tina.” I’d like to keep that going so I can continue getting the benefit of the doubt.
3. It takes a lot of cardio to be that angry. And I haven’t been to the gym in three weeks.

The Simmer Before the Snap

We’ve all been there. You’re minding your business, hydrated, moisturized, and thriving. Then someone decides to try it. Maybe they try to take credit for your work. Maybe they’re being unnecessarily rude to a server. Or maybe they’re just talking down to you like you don’t have a triple-digit IQ.

I can feel it starting in my toes. That little simmer. My internal monologue goes from “What should I have for dinner?” to “Oh, so we’re doing this today? We’re really doing this?”

Bringing the Receipts

When I say “don’t make me show you why I’m quiet,” I’m not being dramatic. It’s a warning. When the quiet girl finally speaks up, she doesn’t just raise her voice—she brings receipts, timestamps, and a level of verbal precision that can dismantle a person’s entire sense of self in three sentences or less.

Kindness is a Choice, Not a Weakness

To the people who think my kindness is a weakness: It’s a choice. I am choosing to be nice. I am choosing to be the bigger person. I am choosing to stay in my lane. But if you keep trying to merge into mine without a turn signal, don’t be surprised when you get side-swiped.

My silence is my sanctuary. It’s where I keep my peace, my plans, and my sanity. If you force me out of that sanctuary, you aren’t going to like the version of Tina you meet. She doesn’t use “per my last email” politely. She uses it as a weapon.

If you see me being quiet, just let me be. Don’t try to “bring me out of my shell.” My shell is reinforced steel, and it’s there for your protection, not mine.

Let’s keep things civil. I’ll keep being the girl who brings cookies to the office, and you keep being the person who doesn’t find out exactly why I have a “don’t mess with me” reputation in three different zip codes.

Deal? Deal.