BULLYING…Birth of Insecurity


I’ve been bullied before, like a hundred times than I could count. The thing is…they weren’t even aware of what they were doing. There are many forms of bullying and I am a prime example of it. The funny thing is kids in my town, when I was a child, were afraid of bullying me. (That’s bullying in physical sense) My father had a reputation for being strict and my mother was a high school teacher. However, bullying transcends even words. These things hurt me more than when they comment on my weight and appearance. Kids, my classmates, would have never ending tease about my strict background. People never realized that when they say I’m no fun at an early age, it left a deep impression in me until I became an adult. Actually, I’m a whole lot of fun which only few people realize and these people are my true, real friends. Probably because I have a different idea of the word fun. 

     In elementary, I play with my classmates but I had more fun playing my siblings and my neighbors. Why? Because I am always subtly insulted when playing and until this day, I don’t think they’re even aware of what they did. We have these physical games, 10-20, patintero, etc.  and you know what? I may have been always sick when I was a child but every time I recovered, I’ve always been strong but because they always call me lame…and so I became lame. Another thing I hated is when they always call me sensitive. I could not count the times they called me sensitive, cry baby, etc. The first few times were nothing to me because I was not sensitive but to be told that they should be careful with me because I AM SENSITIVE from age 6 to 26…TELL ME WHO WOULDN’T BE PISSED OFF? The fact is it didn’t just anger me…it hurt me. It made me feel weak. These people grew up with me…how come they know so little about me? Nobody dared to know me deeper, who I really am. People who knew me these recent years know me better. Now I am a little sarcastic which has become my defense mechanism ever since. My friends today just laugh about it and they understand but the people I know since I was little may think it rude of me…if only they knew. 
     And then they call me strict. There’s that thin line between being really strict and assertive. Then there’s that little thing they call me…shy. Here’s another thin line between shyness and being reserved which I doubt they understand. Why don’t I join them when they’re dancing disco tunes? No, I’m not shy. I’m not a good dancer but it doesn’t mean I don’t like dancing, even comically, with friends. The truth of the matter is…I just don’t like dancing them. Why? Oh so simple, they insult me every single time…subtle insults mind you. The kind of insult that doesn’t sound like an insult to other people but after decades of hearing it…you know what it is. They don’t know that I do dance with my other friends. A few people can attest to this. Why? Because they love me. They know who I really am and they accept it. We have fun, we laugh, we cry and we are upfront with each other. Maybe, that’s why I’m a fangirl. I can be myself.
     Another thing I hate more than being called shy is people tiptoeing around me. Tell me right out what you want to say! It is a little insulting when people don’t tell me right out what they want to say. But don’t get me wrong, these are good, kind people. They have great personalities and believe it or not, I love these people. I just hope that one day they’d realize who I really am. I hope that one day someone would dare to know me…beyond the years. These may sound like a person just writing in anger but no, I am not angry anymore…it is bullying. It made me insecure all the time. It made me feel weak and look down upon myself for two decades. But somehow…it made me stronger. The only thing I regret is that I didn’t stand up for myself. I was a coward. But this is me…there are many forms of bullying. Be careful of what you do, what you say and what you don’t do and don’t say. There are consequences that you couldn’t control after. Bullying is like piece of paper. You crumple it in your hand, release it and you try to even the edges out but the wrinkles will forever be there even if you iron it. I am thankful I was strong enough not to do anything I might regret but some people are not as leveled as I may be or support like I have with my family and real friends. Be careful and be kind. A little thing as laughing in someone’s face or looking at them up and down can scar someone for life. Stop bullying!



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: