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A splinter of my childhood...
Jun. 8th, 2009 08:21 pmAnd this is something I'm afraid to tell a therapist, because I don't know who they'd believe.
In the 6th grade, I was accused of being a bully by the people who bullied me. Back then, I was shy, awkward and depressed. I was an early bloomer, the biggest girl in my class and very emotional. I hardly talked to anyone my own age and I'd go as far as to say I was probably poorly socialized.
I only ever hit somebody once that I can remember clearly. It was with my bookbag and they were following me home from school. They were making fun of my closest friend, it had been going on for days and I think I just snapped, because I whipped around and started swinging and screaming. I was so horrified, I ran back to school and turned myself in to the principal.
I lashed one other time, but I was terrified of authority and I was too afraid of other kids to fight back unless I felt highly provoked.
Back then, we still bunched desks up into groups of six or more. These two girls sat beside me and always accused me of being mean to them. I didn't talk much to them. I don't remember saying anything to anyone in that class stronger than "can I borrow a pencil?" I barely remember their faces, but that memory of what they used to say still cuts. They brought in a magazine, one of those chatty fashion mags for high school girls, with some article about bullying and teasing. At the bottom of one page, they had these little boxes that said "If you're being bullied..." and "If you are a bully..." and told me to read the latter. I don't know why that still hurts or why I still think of it.
I'm not even sure if I feel better for getting it out. For God's sake, it was words, childish, empty words. I was 11, maybe 12. It was years ago. So why am I still hurt by it?
In the 6th grade, I was accused of being a bully by the people who bullied me. Back then, I was shy, awkward and depressed. I was an early bloomer, the biggest girl in my class and very emotional. I hardly talked to anyone my own age and I'd go as far as to say I was probably poorly socialized.
I only ever hit somebody once that I can remember clearly. It was with my bookbag and they were following me home from school. They were making fun of my closest friend, it had been going on for days and I think I just snapped, because I whipped around and started swinging and screaming. I was so horrified, I ran back to school and turned myself in to the principal.
I lashed one other time, but I was terrified of authority and I was too afraid of other kids to fight back unless I felt highly provoked.
Back then, we still bunched desks up into groups of six or more. These two girls sat beside me and always accused me of being mean to them. I didn't talk much to them. I don't remember saying anything to anyone in that class stronger than "can I borrow a pencil?" I barely remember their faces, but that memory of what they used to say still cuts. They brought in a magazine, one of those chatty fashion mags for high school girls, with some article about bullying and teasing. At the bottom of one page, they had these little boxes that said "If you're being bullied..." and "If you are a bully..." and told me to read the latter. I don't know why that still hurts or why I still think of it.
I'm not even sure if I feel better for getting it out. For God's sake, it was words, childish, empty words. I was 11, maybe 12. It was years ago. So why am I still hurt by it?
