(NOTE: Heather defeated Teresa in a Bullrope Death Match in Teresa's hometown of Hazel Park, Mich., which was described earlier at length in a separate story. Below are the reflections of the victorious Heather immediately following the fight.)

During the ride home, I am strangely shaken and yet ambivalent, since fighting isn't my cup of tea. But the fact that I "won" by nearly choking out a former girl streetfighter and girl gang leader with a bullrope is strangely compelling -- a huge boost to my self worth. I see it as a very significant achievement -- to beat a woman in hand-to-hand combat is a huge accomplishment especially when the concept of physically battling another woman is so foreign to me while she had done it so many times before. Adrenaline is humming victoriously through my veins and my headband didn't even fall off during the proceedings -- meaning I actually beat her pretty easily.

I noticed that many male fans who were on hand to watch the fight were pumped and exhilarated, even though the fight occurred in her hometown and I beat one of their locals. You'd think they'd be cheering for her, but they seemed just as excited to see me almost strangle her to death as they would have been to see her win.

Women are more inclined to speak viciously to each other than men because women talk. That's what we do. We process the world verbally. But if you're fighting another woman like I was in a ring where the winner had to knock the loser down for a 10-count, words don't mean anything. The only words that mattered during that fight were when the ref was asking Teresa if she wanted to give up.

After beating Teresa, now I personally would rather fight someone and get it over with -- just like I did Teresa when I tried to knock her out near the end of the fight after she kept getting up. I was tired of nearly choking her out and watching her get to her feet before the ref counted to 10. I just wanted to beat her and be done with it -- and her.

When women fight, it's different than when men fight. Some men don't just fight to protect themselves and others. They fight to bond. They can sock the living heck out of each other and 20 minutes later be walking around with their arms draped over each other's shoulders, the best of friends. Dislocate a guy's shoulder and he'll buy you a drink.

But with girls, it's a different story. Heck, for Teresa who came from Hazel Park, brawling is more than just a recreational pastime. It's for blood. Streetfighters like Teresa come from rough backgrounds where their attitudes and fighting skills were honed while they were in the survival mode growing up. These girls don't have the fear of getting into a fight with any other woman and don't picture themselves being beaten by any other woman in a fight going into the match. Thus, if the woman possesses the skill and physical attributes, rough background experiences and attitudes will usually rule the day as far as the outcome of a fight goes.

But my fight against Teresa was an aberration. Despite her background, I proved I was the better woman when I beat the heck out of her. I punched her in the stomach, kicked her in the head, nearly tore that same head off her neck and then I nearly killed her when I jammed that bullrope into her throat and choked her. And I didn't think twice about it. I'll never become friends with her. And I'm sure the feeling on her end is mutual. I've yet to hear of a case of females over the age of 12 who ended up friends after a fight. Teresa and I fought like we were trying to kill each other. I beat her and nearly killed her. Do you think she'll ever invite me over for tea? Ha!

(In fact, 15 years later, the animosity is still there. Teresa says, "I would probably call her some pretty nasty names if I ever saw her again!")

The most dramatic difference in male and female fighting is that men are culturally entitled to fight. Brawling men are absolved by the "boys will be boys" mantra. When two girls fight, there is a lot more at stake - their identities. They CAN'T let go... The self-esteem one gets from winning a catfight is a momentary rush when you realize that you're the better girl. There's a certain "code" for guy fights, but girls go for blood. Usually when guys fight it's just two or three punches, then somebody drops or bystanders/cops break it up. Gangsters excepted, guy fights tend to be brief, perfunctory, often beer-fueled affairs. But girlfights can be brutal, like my fight against Teresa.

In girlfights like the one I was in, there are no Marquess of Queensbury Rules. You kick and bite as applicable and kick the "stuffing" out of 'em when they're down.

Women are seen as the keepers of the peace. We're supposed to care-take and arbitrate. But somehow it's not yet a given that if someone threatens that which you take care of -- your friends, your mate, yourself -- you've got to kick some butt sometimes. And that's what I did in my fight with Teresa. I kicked her butt because she was trying to kick mine, it's that simple. I was the better woman. She knows it and she'll always know it.

It's my experience that women would rather get along with each other than not. That's not to say, however, that there's a Universal Peace Pact among the supposedly fairer sex. You saw that when I nearly killed Teresa. We don't always get along, as you saw.