Never Wrong a Writer


This evening, I've been thinking about bullies and bullying.

I was a severely bullied child, from 1st grade (I didn't go to Kindergarten) through college. I was labeled the "fat kid," the "poor kid," the "shy kid," the "weird kid," and the "freak," among other wonderful cognomens. I wasn't just bullied by classmates; I was bullied by family members, teachers and, at one point, even the lunch lady.

Before I started school, I was prone to spontaneous public dancing and using anything for percussion. I wasn't particularly good at either activity, but I didn't do it to be good, I did it because it brought me joy. Like every living thing, I was an extension of the multiverse's attempt to understand and be joyful.

My social awkwardness upon going to school, combined with my weight and financial status, hurtled me headlong into two decades of isolation, insulation, and resentment. I was the number one target of kid bullies, as well as being the whipping "boy" of my great-grandmother, who felt me to be inferior to her other grandchildren and great-grandchildren, because I was the grandchild of her least favourite child, and the product of a, by then, broken home that triggered my father's nervous breakdown. To her, I was never pretty enough, smart enough, or good enough for anything.

That didn't stop me from wanting to be.

As I look back on it now, my being bullied only made me want acceptance even more. I think it's a part of human nature to want to be a part of the tribe, to want to be worthy of a smile that doesn't come with mocking comments.

Wanting to be a part of it all stopped for me in 1998. I gave up. I surrendered to the long-boiling derision I felt for my fellow humans. I turned away from thinking I could make a difference in anything because, from my perception and experience, nothing ever really changed.

I understood the mindset behind those who went postal, and I admitted to myself that, had I ever found a similar opportunity, I probably would have gone postal myself at some point, but only before I stopped wanting a place in the tribe. See, if you no longer care about such, then that level of anger is illogical. You don't care enough about others to even want to hurt them.

It's a precarious balance, and one that a lot of people aren't comfortable with acknowledging.

What's so strange is, soon after I stopped giving one single fuck about any of it, and airing my opinions about our fractured species, people began seeking out my friendship. I don't think it would have ever turned out like it did, if not for the Internet, but happen it did. There are places in the virtual landscape populated with tribes and nations of the dispossessed. Sometimes, that's not necessarily a good or healthy thing but, overall, I believe it to be healing, revelatory, and revolutionary.

Here's the punchline, though: I don't think any of it would exist, had it not been for bullies. The kids bullied a generation ago are the adults who created the world we have today. Bullies are an integral ingredient in the cyclic reality in which we find ourselves. There are kids who tried harder, who found refuge in their works of art and science, who sought for a deeper meaning, because the bullies egged them on into those directions where they could not themselves follow.

Sometimes, it doesn't turn out that way. Sometimes, a Columbine happens, or we find ourselves reading a manifesto written by Elliot Rodger, and watching his farewell before his day of retribution. Of course, his acts gave all us Professional Misanthropes a bad name, but I digress.

In so many ways, our world is a much better place because bullies denied their classmates, family members, students, or neighbours a place amongst them. Should we thank them?


But we should acknowledge them for their part in fulfilling one of the laws of physics, that, for every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction. Their violence and harm manifested a miraculous existence where thoughts, music, and images dash about on the air.

What will the bullies help create in the future? I'm excited to find out.
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I was bullied, am still being bullied by my family (blood), which is why I have gotten a new family. YOU, HELLY, Ruth, makes no sense to me, to be able to feel better about yourself, when you make someone else's life so fucking miserable.
You make a valid argument about society and how it would not be if there were no bullies, yet I will not accept it.
Re: bullys
Don't get me wrong, I can't stand bullies.
But I have to admit that I am not the woman I am today, had it not been for those people.
It's kind of like the Butterfly Effect.
Hi there Pumpkin!

Most insightful (as usual) I actually never saw matters that way,
but hardly being bullied myself, it never occured to me.

You cannot miss happiness, unless you once been happy. And if you were happy once, you can be again.

Some adults should not be allowed near children, and, it's not peadophiles I'm talking about now.

Forgiving is actually deciding to not let past injustices have an inpact on your life today.

Enough ranting for today, you have a pleasant one.

Yours Truly,

Oleander 56
Re: Bullies
I have issues with forgiveness. Every time I've forgiven, I've been hurt. It's kind of like Pavlov's dog associating a bell with food. After a while, I began to associate forgiveness with being betrayed. So that transformed into one of my Sith by-laws: Never forget and never forgive.

It's for my own protection.

I hope you're doing well and are happy and healthy! <3
I'm very actively watching the feminist movement behind the twitter tag. While I know it will probably be a flash in the pan in terms of our civilization I feel like for at least a moment people might see the effects of sexism and misogyny and change a little. That's probably too much to hope for though.

Also related to nothing but I hadn't gotten a chance to tell you since you said you were watching Dexter, beware the ending, it made me very angry.
Re: bullies
I finished 'Dexter' some time back. The end didn't make me angry, but I was very sad at some of the outcomes. That doesn't mean I won't watch it again, though. I am particularly intrigued with the concept of the Dark Passenger, since I have one myself.

I hope the latest instances of violence and tragedy change people's outlooks, but I'm not putting my faith into it. At the end of the day, we're all still human, which means we're flawed assholes with severe learning disabilities.