The internet is filled with us people who have fallen victim to bullies either in their childhood, their teens or even as grown-ups. I’m no singular phenomenon although I felt like one back then.
I am aware that probably zero people of my past learned anything else than that you can get away with bullying, no matter what you say. And since I preferred not to beat the living shit out of them I think it’s just natural.
You can have different approaches to cope with childhood bullying after you finally grew up. I learned to embrace my inner weirdo and the honesty with which I’m obviously weird is something that makes me believable as a person.
Somewhere along the path I chose to be me instead of catering to other peoples ideas how I should be to be more likeable. I did not choose to be overweight back then, but I chose to be open about my love of computer games, anime, programming, tv series and my choice of clothes. I chose to cheer up others who got bullied as well, instead of going for the cheap laughs and making fun of them too. And hell did I look aweful with my boyish haircut, my dad’s old leather jacket, plaid pants and skater boy pullovers. But there was nothing else to wear for me and I didn’t care at all. Everyday clothes were (and are still) a tool to prevent freezing for me. But things like that make you an outcast. After leaving elementary school I had already lost hope to find friends and my new school mates sensed that of course.
The first thing they thought appropriate was making fun of my weight, which was disappointing since I had already gone through that for three years, while I didn’t even have a concept in my mind for differently shaped bodys. I did not compare myself with others until then.
In conclusion I must have thought something along the lines of “If what I am is insufferable, with all the unobtrusive hobbies of mine, I could as well be extra and exaggerate.” So I went from overweight and weirdly dressed to overweight, weirdly dressed, tattooed, pierced, lost weight over time, went gothic, dyed my hair orange and became a bit louder. I think in my case I just was the perfect victim at the right spot and the bullying had nothing to do with the actual me being actually unlikeable. People love me for the same old jokes I made over twenty years ago, when I got flamed for them. I still am me.
I remember a really skinny boy in my class being explicitly disturbing, screaming I should die already from the top of his lungs right in my face. It was very obvious that he projected something onto me and that it was his brain actually screaming for some sort of relief. And still kids shouldn’t be confronted with such a severe dysfunctionality.
Later in my life I did go to a class reunion but all I saw was representation, fake smiles, stress, irritation. And amongst all this me, being the hippie girl with feathers in my hair. In another blog I wrote that I chose not to be part of the group and an anonymous person, obviously somebody from my past, claimed that choosing not to be a part of the group might have been my problem all along. I never really responded to that, but here I will:
I’ve had my closure with you guys, I really did. You were part of my way and some of you were more pleasant than others, who chose to be arseholes just because they could. I chose not to, although I could have. There were moments when people annoyed me that much that I just literally flipped their tables over them leaving them shocked that I was able to do that, with the only thing protecting them from a broken nose being my own rational self. After having tried so much, for so long, it’s liberating to realize that there is no obligation to fit in. And it’s even more liberating realizing that the things I got bullied for are actual genuinely positive traits I could help people achieve their lifegoals with. For every single insult you threw at me I’m going to make another person happy. Maybe I went a bit overboard with it when I decided to become this grumpy fairy, posting tons of pictures and articles, accumulating more than 3000 people in total who like what I do. Call it overcompensating if you like. I don’t look into the mirror, seeing doubt and confusion anymore. From the first moment I walked into the class room my place in class was fixed. There was no choice to be made, I did not choose not to belong. It was the circumstances that led to me being the bullet sponge for you and you gladly took the opportunity to come to terms with problems that had nothing to do with me, but with puberty hitting hard. It was dangerous what you did, in many ways. And it still is. But after so much time has passed you lost the ability to harm me, even if you wanted. I have seen things, done things, far bigger than getting bullied at school by a few kids having typical kids issues. So no, you’re wrong. My issue was not that I didn’t want to belong from the start. On the contrary. It was the long sought-after solution.
In case you come to the conclusion you made me what I am and that bullying can influence people positively, taking me as an example for your crude theory:
Fuck you. Fuck you in particular, you retarded piece of worthless excrement.