Dear Bullies...

After last week's Sunday Social, I’ve thought a lot about the time back in high school. I know that many people have fondest memories about that time, having fun with their friends and living the care-free life of teenagers. My high school years were plain hell. Sometimes I’m almost surprised that I have actually made it through those years alive, and this is not an allegory. And all that pain because of a few popular kids, who couldn’t stick to the simple rule “live and let live”, I will call them The Bullies.

It all started back in 3^rd or 4^th grade, when my mom, for many still an “outsider” because she had not been born and raised in this little town, had an argument with a mom from my town’s “high society” (yes, it is as pathetic as it sounds, being the “high society” of a town of about 5,000 people). Her daughter went to school with me, and from then on, she and her clique were against me. I thought that switching over to high school would change things, because a lot of new people would be joining, and I’d make friends and be left alone. But while I hoped that things would change, with a whole bunch of new people in our class, she took her opportunity and made sure that things would change… for the worse. Back then I was probably even more so a shy kid, not really one who approaches people, more the introvert; she, on the other hand, was the polar opposite and before I knew it, she had a huge circle of new friends around her, who hadn’t barely spoken a word to me but thought they’d knew all about me.

I went through all the stages of a bully victim, from trying to shrug it off, trying to talk to them, trying to talk to teachers, showing them that I am stronger, to eventually publicly crumble to pieces.

I still remember this afternoon. I was sitting in class after lunch break, eating a chocolate ice cream bar, and minding my own business. At some point, a piece of the chocolate mantle of my ice cream bar broke off and fell to the ground. I had planned to finish my ice cream and clean it up then; this was not to happen, as just seconds later, the crowd jumped at me. The demanded that I pick the chocolate up at once, which I refused. They started coming at me, pushing me off my chair, trying to force me to lick the chocolate off the floor. I don’t know how I got away, but I did, locking myself into one of the toilet stalls. I broke down, sobbing violently; in this moment, I did not want to go on. At that point, I never wanted to leave the school bathroom to face my tormentors again. Some of the “neutral” people came in to talk to me and see how I was doing. I said that I couldn’t go on like that, that I simply couldn’t any more, and that I wanted to kill myself. Once the words have come out, I heard movement outside the door, and one of the bullies ran back to the crowd for a status report; I heard him yelling “she’s finally going to kill herself”. I felt even more humiliated than before, but also the realization set in that by no means I can let them win. I cannot let them get the better of me and destroy my future. I won’t give them their ultimate victory.

Don't ask me how I managed to get out that day, and return to class, but I did. And I returned the next day, and the one after. I got back into my routine. I showed up for class, did what I needed to do there, and besides that withdrew even more. I spent my days, summer like winter, at home reading, finding solace in the world of books. I appreciated the few friends I had even more, and I started to build myself a life outside school, with friends who went to different schools, and enjoyed the activities I did. Even during the last 2 years of high school, when there were a lot of fundraisers going on to finance the prom, the yearbook, etc., I stayed away. By then, the bullies had basically lost their interest, especially since their leader was no longer in our grade due to mal-performance, but the damage had been done years ago. I took part in the yearbook club because I enjoyed writing. I delivered my pieces and left while the others enjoyed themselves, drinking until late at night. The few times I actually hung out with them (there was honestly still a piece inside me left that WANTED to fit in), I drank myself into oblivion early on, just to not feel or remember.

And then graduation and prom days came and went, and I was free. I moved forward from then on, and hardly ever looked back. I’m still in contact with my best friend, of course, and with a few others who had remained neutral. In 2008 I received an invitation for our 5-year reunion; of course, I didn’t go, living half a world away and just having had a baby. This year was our 10-year reunion, and again I received an invitation. I planned on going at first, with hubby and the girls as support, but then decided against it. My friend and the other people I still talk to all didn’t go, and why put even the least effort forward to impress someone who isn’t worth it. Sure, I’ve made it. I have a wonderful family, great education, and a job that many only dream of. Some have never finished college or a job training and now work in a factory somewhere, or are simply unemployed. Some of the girls’ best bet is hoping for a good marriage. So they have spent the best years of their life feeling superior by making me feel the worst I ever did, but that skills didn’t help them in any way. Today, they are on the loser-end of the equation, while I have risen above them. I still bear my scars; I still suffer from depression and a feeling of worthlessness. But I know that I am lovable and my life is worth living when I am with my family, who loves me for who I am, unconditionally.

To all these bullies: you have tried to break me, to bring me down, to elevate yourselves. You may have won battles along the way, but not the war. I have risen above it, and even though it still hurts thinking about it sometime, not having many fond memories of this time in my life that should have been one of the best times of my life. But to be honest, it doesn't matter now, because the best time of MY life is right now; I am surrounded by so much love that your hate does not affect me any more. I don't wish you anything bad; I know that some of you have gone through horrible pain throughout the years. I don't expect you ever to think back about this awkward girl you tortured so casually. I will remember you for the rest of my life, but I am beyond your grasp now. I wish you the best for your life, but never care to see any of you again.

If you or someone you know are a victim of bullies and you would like to share experiences or need support from a survivor, please feel free to contact me.

If You Can't Say Anything Good...

Today, going through my Facebook page, the only thing that came to my mind was a German proverb, saying "If you can't say anything good about the dead, don't say anything at all" (it is my current Facebook status; in German, since the hubby wanted to avoid extensive FB wars almost sure to ensue).

Of course, all this refers to the death of a person hated and hunted as few in the last years. But seriously, public parties to celebrate a man's death?? Barack Obama calling it "good news", David Cameron said he was "happy", and our very own Secretary of State, Guido Westerwelle was "celebrating the very good news". Again, seriously, people?

No doubt, Osama bin Laden was not necessarily a good person. He caused a whole lot of grief and sorrow to many, many people. One may hold him responsible for the general anti-Muslim movement in the US; please don't forget that Muslims were among the victims during the 9/11 attacks, and their families now have to deal with the doubled burden of having to do without a loved person AND being Muslim in the US. He caused death, upheaval, and chaos, but beneath all this, he lived and died for what he believed, and this is more than many people can say of themselves. Osama bin Laden was born into a rich family, enjoyed an excellent education in the West, but turned to fundamentalism at some point, which started his career as being outcast, banished, hunted.

But for all the bad things he has caused, we cannot forget those who are now grieving for him. He had a number of wives, children, and grandchildren, who are now mourning the loss of a loved one. Am I the only one who thinks that public celebrations are disrespectful to the pain this family is feeling? If anything, I go with what our Chancellor, Angela Merkel published after the news broke: relief. Not happiness, not joy, but relief. There may be some people now who can lay back and sleep better knowing that this "enemy of the state" is no more. I personally never felt threatened or scared, and now feel no relief but mostly disgust of people's reaction. I can understand that the families of bin Landen's victims feel that justice has been served and may be able to deal a little easier with their loss, but those crowds at Time Square and the White House? Is this really necessary? Please, if you think it is, tell me, maybe I'm just too much of a liberal humanist to understand.

Thus, today, a day that may stand recorded in history I would like to ask for moderation and keeping those in your thoughts who are in pain, whether it is for the death of the man they called husband, father, or grandpa, or for the renewed pain of having lost a loved one during the attacks of 9/11.