Do you know how young someone can be when they start to contemplate harmful thoughts, such as suicide? For me, I was 10 years old. I was bullied at school so badly that I would cry everyday, and be scared from the minute the bell rang to the time I got home. When you are just an innocent kid, other children calling you names, spitting on you, and teasing you seems like the end of the world. I remember saying to myself that I never wanted to feel so powerless ever again.
When I reached highschool, I was obsessed with becoming popular and knowing the “right” people so that I would never be picked on again. I did just that, and started to hang out with people from out side of my school who were part of really bad crowds. I associated myself with people who intimidated others and felt a sense of “empowerment” because I seemed to be respected, albeit, for the wrong reasons.
I made some bad decisions, hung out with people I shouldn’t have, saw things I shouldn’t have, and grew up quickly. By age 21, two of my friends had been murdered. I finally came to my senses and realized that while I may have thought that my life was invincible, I couldn’t imagine what my family would go through if something ever happened to me because of the circle I was associating myself with. I realized that intimidation, sexuality, growing up in warp speed – these things did not give me empowerment or meaning. It was an empty facade that was fed by other empty, lost beings also searching for their place in life.
And while many people likely judged me along the way, I recognize now that I was just a scared little girl, wanting to fit in, looking to be accepted and wanting the one thing we’re all after…love.
I’ve learned that everyone has a story. Those who act tough, those who act like they’re invincible, those who are cruel to others. – each and every one of them has a story. People who inflict pain on others, who bully, who feel the need to demean – that root comes from somewhere. Whether you are the bully or the bullied, both share a common denominator. Each person has their lot of insecurities and fears, which acts as the root of how we behave and interact with others. The easiest thing to do is to pass judgment, maybe even ridicule, but as human beings, with so much hate already out there, I think the one thing we really can do to contribute to this world is to play nice.
I saw a website lately, where the fundamental premise is to defame and insult people. My heart felt so sad when I saw it. Has it really come to this? Do grown ups really think that if it’s anonymous and online, that suddenly it’s okay to go back to the immaturity of grade school and bully others? These are real people, who have real feelings, insecurities and fears just like the rest of us. The minute you stoop to that level, you have just contributed to more hate and ugliness to our world.
I apologize if it sounds like I’m going on a rant or if I’m preaching. I just know how it feels to be bullied, teased and made fun of. That hurt almost caused me to have thoughts of suicide at the age of 10, and just because we are older now, it doesn’t mean that such cruel words may not have such an affect on someone.
[infobox bg=”bluelight” color=”black” opacity=”on” subtitle=”Sima Kumar”]“We’re all after the same thing, love and acceptance”. [/infobox]
Not So, “Sex and the City”
Hello Amy:
Thanks for the awesome article of bullying, July 7, 2010.
This article has helped me immensely. I am dealing with 2 bullies in my workplace, and it has come to an intervention. No one should have to put up with verbal and emotional abuse anywhere. I pray that some disciplinary action will be dealt out to the 2 bullies. Thanks again.
Brenda
I completely agree with what you are saying. I only wish that all people could read this and understand it entirely. I live by the rule of playing nice and every time someone bullies me in the work place or I have to deal with people who I feel are cruel, I say to myself… “everyone has a story”. Life would be so much easier if everyone was just nice to each other…
As someone who was bullied for many, many years, physically, verbally and mentally, both at school and outside of it, I find this resonates with me so much. I wrote about it myself last year, and it was immensely cathartic to say the least. The tears flow fast, but they leave an amazing serenity behind. Sometimes when I think back on that time, I find a small twinge of bitterness, but it has, for the most part, been replaced with a sense of peace, of having taken that period of my life as a lesson and trying to learn from it instead. Loved this.