I've been trying to write about my experience being bullied for a long time and every time I begin, I am unable to put in to words my thoughts. I hope that somewhere, someone may feel inspired, or find hope in my story.
I have always been told I was a happy child, outgoing, energetic and full of life. I would talk to anyone, child or adult, who crossed my path. I was always excited to meet someone new and found several great friends just by going to a house and asking if there was someone who could play.
One day a group of us were getting together to play some games and a neighbor girl said to me, "My mom says I can't play with you." You can imagine how I may have felt. I had been taught from a young age, and felt in my heart, that everyone was to be loved and included despite their background, their religion, their parents, their looks, or their popularity. I use the word tolerance, not as just 'tolerating" a person, rather as accepting and loving all people. You do not need to agree with a person or their actions to love them.
What had I done?
Why was I being singled out?
Like most kids, I was an adventurer and would occasionally get in trouble for ridding my bike too far or staying hidden too long. Because I was the biggest kid (not necessarily the oldest), I was often the one blamed and therefor labeled the "problem child." I didn't find this out until years later when a cousin admitted that her mother told other parents to watch out for me.
This broke my heart. And it would only be the beginning of years of bullying that I would experience.
In school I was interested in Art, Drama and reading. I wasn't very athletic and struggled with the normal sports: soccer, basketball, kickball. (Actually I was athletic, but "hiking" isn't really considered a school sport;)). I was also a little over weight. The 'popular' kids would make fun of me at recess and I even had adults say, "Maybe if you lost a little weight, you would have more friends."
Sixth grade was especially hard for me. I remember coming home from school often with tears in my eyes. Each time a student had a Birthday, the teacher would try make it really special for them. They got a beautiful handmade card signed by the whole class and would receive special privileges. When my birthday rolled around, I was anxious and excited. Much to my dismay, my birthday had been forgotten. Of course I didn't have the courage to tell the teacher so a fellow classmate told her for me. She felt horrible that they day was over and it had been forgotten so she made a big deal in front of the class. Apparently this gave some of the 'cool' kids in my class an idea.
The next day I would find my locker decorated. Then, during recess, the kids would raid everything, leave nasty notes, and write horrible words across the locker for everyone to see. It shattered me. I didn't want to go to school and all I could think of were their laughing faces. I was mortified. I was crushed.
Slowly the light that once radiated in my being began to fade. My confidence became weak.
The end of the following summer our family decided to move. I was filled with new hope. I could make a new start with a new school and new friends.
It was a lot more difficult then I had expected. The girls in my church were far more concerned with the clothes they were wearing then the character of their heart. I tried so hard to fit in. I did extra chores around the house just so I could buy the necessary things to 'fit in'. But to what end? No matter how I tried, i wasn't accepted. No matter what pants I wore, or how I cut my hair, the me, wasn't good enough. I was laughed at in Sunday School, mocked in front and behind my back. I was the butt of all the jokes on the bus to school.....even the driver, would leave me on the side of the road when I was waiting for the bus, leaving me miles from school and late for class.
Finally, by the eighth grade, I had found a small group of friends who seemed to accept me. I remember feeling like I had people I could call my own. Sadly, that didn't last either. I wont go into the particulars of the situation but I will say this; they hurt me more then I thought possible. They told me to my face that I was no longer welcome to be their friends. They didn't want to be seen with me in the halls, I would have to sit somewhere new at lunch, and if I even smiled at them in class, they would make sure I knew I was nothing. And all of this was because a group of boys they liked thought I was ugly.
I expected this from the popular, high maintenance kids in my school, but from my friends?? I was done. I had already been prone to depression. I suppose a person who feels such joy and passion in her life is cursed with having to experience the opposition in that. Balance in all things.
Ninth graders went out of their way to make sure I would never be liked. And so, I decided I was never going back.
I would leave the public school system determined to get my GED and be done with high school. I didn't want to have to face my peers again. My parents were pretty determined to have me finish off at a private school with a diploma. We would search for a long time before finally setting on Realms of Inquiry.
The long term effects were unfortunate. I suffered from sever depression, anorexia and anxiety. I had almost no confidence and questioned whether or not I could ever be loved for being me. BUT, I did overcome! I found love in unexpected places. I had people, I hardly knew, care and show concern. I would find peace in the mountains, in the desert and on the trails. I found reason in my faith and ultimately that was what got me through.
I would go to college and thrive. I would try new things, Crew, Cross Country running, art. I would get lost in my books and spend hours with friends laughing so hard we'd cry. I would find a place amongst people who were drawn to me, and I to them. I have found purpose in life and I am thriving.
I could have let the words of others break me down and give up. I could have given in to thoughts of suicide. I could have stopped believing in God, mercy, and love. But I didn't.
The experiences that we have in our lives make us who we are. Not the experiences themselves, but how we choose to act as a result of them. I choose to put a smile on and believe; Believe that I am worth loving, believe that I am strong, believe that my quirks make me special, not strange but worth loving.
I have more then I could ever have imagined. I have a beautiful and supportive family. I have friends who have chosen to be an extension of that family. I have faith in the Love of God for ALL of his children, no matter what!
I wish we lived in a world where we loved people BECAUSE of their weaknesses and not DESPITE of them. If only we could see what their maker could see. If we could treat others with respect, whether or not we think they've earned it. If only we knew how powerful our words can be for good and for evil alike. Maybe then we could lift those around us and not break them down.
I have since had run ins with several of the individuals who "bullied" me. More often then not, without provocation, they have given me sincere apologies. I truly believe that people are not inherently bad, or mean. They have insecurities of their own and give into the pressure of peers. I do not hate them, nor do I feel sorry for them. They too must learn and grow by experience.
I cannot imagine what it is like for kids today. With social media and text messaging, it is easier then ever to bully without even having to face one another. If you or someone you know and love is dealing with this, I want you to know you are not alone and that it WILL be okay. Life will get better. I believe that as we endure, we can find peace. We can feel love envelop our souls. We can find people who lift us and love us for who we are.
I wrote this poem as I thought of my experience:
Small and cracked the little brown seed,
By the wayside; no use for the farmer.
She will never fill the gardens,
Pruned and immaculate.
Or grace the bouquet on the fine lady’s table,
Set with linen cloth.
Kicked, stepped upon, disregarded.
Left alone, to fend for herself.
A scar here, a tare….broken.
In the wind she disappeared.
They left her to fend for herself
On rocky edges.
Told she could never sprout
Among the shards and scree
But despite the hate, the judgment,
Humiliation and disgrace.
The seed began to bloom where she was.
Shooting above the noxious weeds,
On the top of the jagged peak
She stood gazing upon those
Who believed she was nothing.
Reaching towards God
She was above them all.
