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My whole life, I dealt with bullies. All through my childhood and my teens. I was a miserable, terrified kid. I tried everything to make it stop. I tried to ignore it (it didn’t work). I tried to play it off (didn’t work). I tried reasoning with the bullies (def. didn& #39;t work).
I tried telling adults — the school, teachers, my mom — and, you guessed it, it didn’t work. I’d hear that’s just how kids are, that I cared too much, as if the problem wasn’t what the bad shit that was done to me but how I reacted to it. I was too sensitive. I had to toughen up.
That obviously didn’t work, either. What I always told myself when it got particularly bad is that it would get better, that I would grow up and be able to pick my surroundings and filter people out. I told myself that I would also eventually toughen up.
Yet, here I am, 30 years old and no sign of toughening up. Still hearing that I’m too sensitive, that this just how people are, that I care too much. As if the problem is not the bad shit that gets said to me, but how I react to it.
At this point I’ve accepted it’s a fact of life and that it doesn’t really get better. Bullies are bullies, no matter how old. And while I haven’t come any closer to understanding why they are the way they are, one thing I have learned:
There’s no reasoning with these people.
They can all go eat shit :)
The end.
They can all go eat shit :)
The end.
