It Gets Better

What is it about 5th grade? It seems that's when it starts, if it's going to start. That's when it started for me. It wasn't just one bully. It wasn't just kids in my class. It's more like the act of tormenting me was what got everyone else accepted into the club of those who were allowed to be normal teenagers.

This torment took on various forms. Some chose name-calling - barnyard animals were the favorite, spreading rumors, and making verbal threats. Some took it a step further and resorted to tripping me, stealing my things, putting gum in my hair. One went so far as to set my hair on fire in class (the teacher pretended not to notice).

To this day, I'm not exactly sure why it started. It probably had something to do with my exceptional height making me stand out. That's the thing about bullies, though, and a thing that's very important to remember: there is nothing about you that makes you deserve it. If there's nothing overtly different about you, they will just invent something, because you're not the one with the defect; they are. In my case, my guess is that I was just an easy target and the kids who started it were popular.

I remember the kid who started it, and I remember the ones who were the worst. I remember the first boy I ever had a crush on, neighing in my face the first time I worked up the nerve to smile at him. The thing is, I don't remember the last time I saw any of them.

My 10-year high school reunion is happening this month, and I will not be attending. That's in large part because as an adult, I have the power to choose who I do and don't let into my life. That's the most important thing to remember. You may be stuck with a bunch of cretins while you're in school, but eventually, you're just not anymore. You're not George McFly, who will forever be in Biff's power as he graduates from class bully to office tyrant.

I got a Facebook friend request from one of the guys were the worst. In response, I sent him a message, just asking him to satisfy my curiosity and tell me why on earth he'd sent the request. He replied, at very great length, about how horrible he felt about the way he'd behaved toward me and was trying to atone for the sins of his youth. I accepted his apology, but denied his request to be Facebook friends. I'm glad that he's grown as a person, but it doesn't mean I want to invite him into my life. Just the memories that involve him breed negativity, and I do not have to expose myself to it.

Now, I have a good relationship with my mom. I have found the love of my life, and he's a really great guy. I have friends who like me for who I really am and respect me as a human being. I have professional colleagues who support my endeavors. In short: it got better. My life is not perfect. There will always be obstacles to overcome and negative people who need to be dealt with. Still, it is pretty damned good, and I wouldn't trade it.

I don't dwell on those middle and high school years, but when I do think of them, it's usually when I hear of someone bullying another person or group of people, and maybe because I know how it feels, it makes me a better advocate. I'm not saying I'm glad I was bullied, but at least I can channel those experiences into helping others. I'm coming out of the locker now just in case you needed to know you're not alone, just in case you're looking for all the examples you can to prove to yourself that it gets better.

Please do not end your life. If the thought even crosses your mind, call 1-800-SUICIDE.
Please do not deprive the world of your gentle soul.

And hey, if they can't say something nice, you come sit next to me.