My father stopped when I barged into his bedroom, heavy wooden stool held high above my head, ready to cave his skull in. I didn’t have it in me, though, so he ended up with a swollen shin. I have never told him I was this close, and now that I’ve finally gone no contact, I doubt he’ll ever know.
Being able to stand your ground after decades of being backed into a corner by the person supposed to protect you… Yes that’s reason to gloat. For some of us, this is as “normal” as it’ll ever get. And it’s a fucking Victory with a capital V.