I don't remember a single word ever said to me by a bully, but I can clearly recall their faces and every single one of their names and the feeling of dread that I got every time one approached me and the anger I still feel at the thought of each and every single one of them. I have no doubt they don't remember me at all. It's been 30 years. They thought only barely enough of me back then to ridicule me and ride me for three years of Jr. High, after which I'm sure they went home, did their homework, played with their friends, and never once thought about the consequences of their actions. Guilt is reserved for those who know they're doing something wrong. If you're taught that you are superior to others, you can't have guilt when you put those others in their place.
This, ultimately, is my point. The words and the taunts and the bullying behavior ends, but the effects of that bullying live on forever. Once a person has been told that they are worthless and those words are followed up with actions and the world does nothing to counter those claims, the victim will take those words to heart and will own them. There is no amount of self-esteem that can be taught that will overcome that kind of painful belief system. It becomes part of a person's psyche.
I don't think I ever saw it before - or at least not this clearly - and I don't mean to look at it as an excuse for my life. As I pointed out in the first part of this story, the seeds of my bullying were set in grade school. I was already well on my own path to confrontation with the "normal" world before I ever became bullied. But after being bullied, I can see how my psyche changed and how my decisions became flavored by that.
I loved to write in grade school. In Jr. High, I began to tell stories in other ways. In High School, I wrote again with a renewed passion - some prompted by teachers and friends reading my work, and some prompted by embracing a skill that I thought would take me places. But here is where that flavoring kicked in... I was certain that in some cosmic way, I was destined to be great. It was like I just expected a realignment of the world that would put me on top of all those that had ever put me down. I was waiting for cosmic retribution.
It wasn't that I expected I would win the proverbial lottery. I wrote. I worked hard at my craft. But I just assumed that sooner or later my talent would be discovered and that I would naturally assume my place as a great writer and a person beloved in all the world. That would show them.
That was the gist of it. That would show them! At my core, I was driven by a desire to prove that I wasn't that worthless person, that utter failure that everyone claimed to see when they looked at me in Jr. High. I was consumed by this desire. I threw everything good I ever had onto its altar and set the flames rocking.
Success wasn't going to be enough for me. I needed MEGA-SUCCESS! I needed Spielberg, Lucas, Disney success! Anything short of that was failure.
At some level, I still feel that way. Its something I struggle with even now. I can't enjoy even a minor victory because it only proves that I got lucky or that I managed to achieve something, but so what... there are others that do it so much better.
I don't want their wealth. I don't want their power. I want them to know that I have made something of myself and that I am not a loser. But I know that nothing I ever do or say will ever be enough to rid myself of these inferior feelings. I will be driven like this for the rest of my life.
So there is no BETTER for people that have been bullied. They have been taught that they are inferior and they have taken that feeling to heart. The only way forward in peace is to accept that feeling and somehow set it aside.
If there is any hope in this, it is this. I would never have put this together in my mind had I not a) made a horrible movie, and b) gone to Kenya. The movie made me question whether I really was talented and Kenya made me question whether anything I did or said really mattered in the grand scheme of things. My suffering is infinitesimal compared to the suffering in Kenya. That sort of perspective made me reevaluate my entire world view, starting with, as Michael Jackson once said, The Man in The Mirror. Maybe now that I know at least some of the wounds that I harbor deep inside, I can finally start to heal them.
4 comments:
I agree that the effects of bullying are long lasting, but I get the impression from your post that you consider them to be mostly negative. I have a different take on the matter from my experience that I posted a while back in "Maybe Bullying Ain't All the Bad."
If I had it to do all over again I might like to go back and punch the bully in the nose, but if I were to do that and change what happened during my formative years, who is to say what negative long term consequences of my violent response would be on my psyche or my future life?
Pewster - I can't disagree. Asking how my life would have been different without the bullying is like asking me how the United States would have done had we not fought a Civil War. I can speculate. I can theorize. But ultimately, I just have to accept this as part of who I am and move on. I was never debilitated by the actions of bullies. I never felt like committing suicide or anything drastic like that. But the impact was there and is still ongoing.
I guess what prompted me to write this series of posts is this media like notion that something can be done about bullying, that somehow we can pass a law or get better teachers or put everyone in private schools or home schools and everything will go back to normal. It won't.
It's interesting that you had that same notion about going back and punching someone in the nose. I often wonder the same thing.
Thanks for sharing this series, Will. I never experienced quite what you had, although there were certainly some moments in my life being called "four-eyes" and assorted Chinese-related name-calling that were none-too-pleasing.
That said, I'm with you guys - what if I had reacted differently? Not sure, but I am the person I am today because of those experiences, and part of the healing that comes about is using our experiences to help someone else.
Isn't that what Christ asks of us? He uses us, broken in specific facets of our lives, heals us, then calls us to draw upon that to help someone else. It's hard to embrace our past suffering - often it's very difficult - yet the blessing to come from it won't just benefit us, but someone else.
Great series, Will. I'll be praying for your continued healing, my friend and brother.
I winced at the points in your narrative when I knew you and might have made a difference. It speaks to your ability to cover your pain and my willful blindness to anything unpleasant. I wonder who is in my life now who might be in a similar need.
Not to rush too quickly to resolution, but you do open the door yourself in the last line. Healing is possible. I believe that God can redeem any situation. I would encourage you to look for evidence of Romans 8:28 working out in your life.
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