On Bullying

On Bullying:

I was bullied pretty relentlessly as a child. I could see into unseen realms, spirits, animals and plants spoke to me. There was a light inside me I could see and feel. It made me feel happy, loved, ecstatic. I didn’t realize that other humans weren’t sensing the richness of it all, so when I spoke of it, I was always ridiculed. Most of the other kids around me seemed to think I was weird, had stupid ideas, and when I cried, or told adults, I was told I was too sensitive.

If it wasn’t my weirdness, it was my body. To be bullied for not fitting into the stereotypical lanky 70s kid frame, to have a healthy Celtic body with strong back, chest and shoulders did not suit the era of Twiggy female bodies. I felt like there were no safe places or people in my world, but for my Grandfather. Without him, I am not sure if my story would have been anything but tragic.

At around age nine, the severity of the bullying was feverish, relentless. I felt my light starting to fade, perhaps to be snuffed out. It had all gotten to me, gotten all over and inside of me. My nervous system was fried, so anxious I couldn’t sleep at night, fearing the day to come. Adrenaline sweat soaked my clothes, my sheets, my hair...like I was always about to drown.

It was exhausting.

I did not want to be here anymore.

I tried to not be here anymore, only it is much harder to turn the light out than you think.

I did not understand the point of being here if we were only going to hurt each other.

My immune system must have been triggered pretty strongly from my attempt, because I woke up one day like I was on fire. I would flame back with the crispiest burns ever to leave the mouth of a nine year old. I would fight mean kids with my wit, but also my body. And they did not cross me a second time. I would fight for other kids being bullied too. It gave me a high like no other, to fight the good fight. For a moment, the firekeeper rescued the light for the drowning child.

Thing is, my fire never made me less weird, or less alone.

And it burned me too.

The kids who were bullying me now seemed to fear me. The others who I had defended would cling to me, and burden me as their perpetual warrior princess. And I just wanted a friend, someone to turn to me and say ‘you too? This is messed up! Let’s get through it together...and let’s change it.’

When I see bullying now, so much of it online, I see where we have parented our young ones, and how we see each other as competition to survive. The drumbeats of war are so loud from every direction. We fight for attention, to feel safe, to release the tsunami of uncried tears within that would drown us if we didn’t let it out.

There are the rare few who collaborate well, who have learned to be loving to even people they might not like. More than anything, even in the loudest and most obnoxious of us, I clearly see us all wanting and needing real friends.

Perhaps if we taught each other that real human friendship is how we survive, and how love wins, we have a chance to shine, together.