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zorathenneI'm just going to start out right here stating that: "This is all YOUR fault!"
*grin*
But don't worry.. I'm about to explain why..
It's because of 2 specific entries you posted. One post I had every intention of answering.. But then a few certain issues got in the way hence pushing this not only onto the furthest backburner possible, but the stove practically turned itself off as well *grin*.
The second post, though, really gripped me, and hard. And that is the post I am going to address first. So you guys out there are about to not only get me in a chatty mood, but you're all about to learn a few things about me you might normally not get a glimpse at.
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dr_nebula's post takes you to another post where the question was asked concerning bullying and tactics between the sexes. I'm not an expert on triggers, but even I couldn't read through those replies without shuddering. I can say that I know what it's like to relive a past situation and the emotions surrounding it, and I feel the intense need to warn anyone ad everyone that if you were affected by such situations, you do risk reliving if you read those replies..
"Which gender is worse?", is pretty much the question raised. Well, I can only admit that I do not really know. I have always held to the fact that yes, girls and women are the more vicious, but I think that is because when it came to guys picking on each other, all I would be witness to were physical actions.
Girls, on the other hand.. lord'a mercy.. If a girl or a group of girls didn't like you, and they were predatory, dominant, controlling, saw you as competition or knew they would be protected by the girls who were, (and it was hella worse if they felt they needed to put you down to build themselves up and make them look good to everyone else) and you happened to be in their sights.. damn.. Unless you were able to stick up for yourself and show them that if they fucked with you you would hurt them in any and every way possible, you got turned into pate..
And I don't mean just physically..
I have seen things happen to girls by other girls that I don't think any boy their age could top unless it involved brute physical force. And even then it was nothing compared to what I read happened to some of those who responded to that post.
I just want to hug them all so tight and hard. My heart still hurts from reading all that.
You see, I have been teased before.. And on the rarest of occasions, I've been bullied without fighting back.. But that was when I was very young. (like kindergarten/first grade young).
That all changed as I got older.
I can only guess it was because I had a hell of a lot of anger and hurt already in me (which will I'm sure be fully explained in the next post), and I was the one to lash out physically, and frequently. On top of that, I guess you could say I was the one who beat up the bullies. If I saw someone picking on or physically threatening someone weaker than them (and I don't mean just coming upon 2 friends or enemies who started out in a yelling match that turned physical or anything like that), I didn't ask any questions. I waded in swinging.
That didn't always stop the bullying, I'm sure, but it was learned that if you wanted to pick on someone, don't let me catch you.
That lasted until about middle school.. by that time, the bullies in my school traveled in packs. Trust me, I got probably more lumps than I gave, but *shrug* If you were my friend or I knew you were getting picked on, I still jumped in.
But even then, it was rarely that bad. I did get picked on and got into more than enough scraps, but I don't think it ever got that bad. Also, for some reason that to this day I can't fathom, it would almost always work out that those I had fought before one year would pretty much be amongst my friends the next year.
I thought it was because then, you've shown that person that you can't be easily messed with. I didn't always get the best of them in those fights, but they learned that when I did fight..
I didn't fight to (physically) win.. I was trying to pretty much kill you. The fight no longer became about what caused the fight in the first place. And I fought dirty at every chance. It didn't matter that you could beat me up (and yes, that did happen), what mattered was that I would not make it easy for you. I could take and ignore verbal teasing. I could even take and ignore you verbally threaten to beat me up. But once you swung that fist, it was on.
I think what also helped was a mother who would defend me with the strength of every diety on earth and their minions, if I got in trouble. Now, to be specific, it wasn't that easy *grin*. The rule was this: If I got into a fight and I didn't (at least try to) win, don't come home. Because if I did, I was gonna get a whipping from her, then I had to go back to who got me in the first place and finish it.
But.. that rule came with stipulations..
First, said fight better not had started because I was picking on someone (see.. I better not be the bully).
If said fight could not be avoided, then the other person better swing first, and I better swing last. This meant that I was to avoid a physical fight if at all possible (I didn't like to fight, anyway), but if I was cornered or otherwise didn't have a choice, then I'd better prepare to physically defend myself.
It was understood that of course I'm not going to win every physical fight that came my way, but I damned sure better leave a mark on them that they would never forget. In other words your butt better go down trying..
If I got in trouble for fighting back, and the person who started didn't or it seemed they would get off with a simple "kids will be kids", then my mother would raise holy hell and high water.
So when I got into a fight, It was not uncommon to hear me yelling at the top of my lungs while swinging, "I'm going home! I'm going HOME!" (yes, my friends growing up would tease me about that. But see, they also understood why.. some of them I'm sure had a parent like my mother when it came to stuff like that)
See, the moral of her rule was not to never let anyone walk over me. Never to let anyone take advantage of me. Never to be a doormat.
My mother was picked on too when she was young. She was small for her age, quiet, and she was quite light~skinned with freckles and reddish~brown soft hair. 2 of her sisters were also light skinned, but with darker hair and they were also much older and had different personalities (they took after their father looks and skin~wise), while the other siblings were much darker (after their mother). And almost every other black woman knows how it can get for one who is light and freckly with soft hair and is quiet and intelligent and spoke more intelligently than they did.
Thing is, she had the patience of Job.. but the temper of the scorpio she was born on the cusp of (I used to tease her about that). Mix that with a Libra sense of fairness and justice (whether you believe in that 'astrological mishmush' or not I don't care, so nyah! *grin*), and push her to that point.. Well ask the boy she went off on with a 2x4 that was ~ as her sisters put it ~ bigger than her about how she reacted after getting her hair pulled and dealing with being teased. And they were distant cousins *grin*. The rest of the tale goes on to where the boy told his mom and they went and confronted my mom and her mom, and my grandmother took her shotgun, pointed it at them, and gave them til I don't know how much time to get off her porch with that mess..
Gotta love family, eh? *grin*.
Anyway, I digress. As I said, I got picked on and teased myself. I was a tad bit lighter then that I am now (especially when I was much younger), and I also had freckles. I also spoke properly with only a hint of slang (meh). What would one expect when one's mother is a retired second grade teacher? I was very intelligent, bright, read at least 3 grades higher than average, played 3 instruments, and was in sports (among other things). I got called wigger, white girl, zebra (as my mother could pass for white if she really wanted and you didn't look too hard, and my father was like milk chocolate), Old Yeller, Tweety Bird, Big Bird (for those not in the know, being light can sometimes mean you had a yellow tone to your skin, and those terms reflected that), and piss colored. I was told I could blend into the sand on the playground, I was so yeller. As I not only had light skin, I have hazel eyes that tended towards almost greenish at times, and I mostly hung out with boys, as I got older, the teasing would get worse. Now granted, if you came at me physically, I would rumble with you till the cows came home.. But this.. psychological shit..
I had to learn a whole new set of rules. And the last thing they included was a physical fight. That... was the Last Resort. What I did have in my arsenal was the fact I was a hell of a prankster/practical joker. Hey.. when you can't always beat them on their terms.. You learn quick to beat them on yours. And all through school and even college, I was ruthless with the pranks when I had to be. Best thing about pulling pranks was, I became one of those "Oh, kids will be kids.." *snicker*. I just had to know there was a limit to how far I could go before I did get in trouble. But once I learned it.. mwaha!
And it was the girls who would pull that psycological shit. Now, I wasn't the most popular girl in school, I wasn't a Prep, I didn't always wear the most popular brands (I wore what was comfy for me), I wasn't a jock (even though I was in sports), I wasn't in drama (I was in Marching Band though), I wasn't a nerd or geek (though I loved hanging out with the Chess club), and I wasn't an outcast. Actually, I was on the fringes of all groups. I had a thing for geeks (the jocks weren't smart enough for me, even those who were), I didn't really care when it came to it if you liked me or not, and my personality was (and still is) one where it was easy for me to make friends (Ugh, I sound like I'm bragging). Also, there were many of us who were parts of all groups, so differences were more tolerated. On top of that, being a geek was pretty kewl. I also had friends from all walks. I tended to mother those I friended, and one of the best memories of middle and high school was that I became mother and then grandmother and so on and so forth of a large group in my class and the ones below us (I don't know how that started, but those that called me mom had those of their own calling them mom and almost every other day I would bump into someone calling me Auntie Mel or Great~Grandmom or whatever, and I wasn't even yet graduated!). I still have the birthday cards I was given by my friends where they weren't made for a friend's birthday, they were made for a mother instead hehe.
I think it was that network and having the friends I grew up with, along with my ready attitude and smart mouth and fists, that staved off the worse of the bullying. Even some of the nicknames I had that I didn't like were given a different meaning when my close friends used them (Mellow~Yellow, Melancholy and Sugabear.. don't even think about it.. *growl*) and were more acceptable.
On top of that, I developed early. I didn't get my period until I was almost 12, and I had breasts much earlier than that. I'll find my grade school class pics and show you sometime. They weren't very prominent then, but the way I was sitting, you knew I had them. Before I left middle school I was about a C cup. When I was in high school my mom was wearing my old C cups. I was a D. The teasing I endured during then was thankfully short lived. I think that was the only time I was really teased by the boys in ways I could not just ignore. They would come up to me and either on a dare, try to grab my breasts, or hold out a cup to me and ask me to fill it up with milk for them. My reaction wasn't friendly.
The girls, on the other hand, would talk about me behind my back. I had to be a slut, of course, because the majority of my close friends were boys.. I had to be a slut, because the only reason I must have for hanging with the geeks and nerds was that I was sleeping with them to make them feel better about themselves. But that's mostly all they did.. Talk.. It hardly ever went further than that, because I was the one who would come right up to you and confront you. If you had a problem with me, then we can solve it Right. Here. And. Now. And I wasn't the only tomboy in my group. And I also wasn't the only one who stood up for those being picked on. Call me White Girl, slut, whatever, all you want.. I could just as easily shrug it off or tell you off in ways that would bring tears to Lucifer's eyes.. As long as you didn't become a physical threat, well then, you weren't anything of any importance to me.
I could go on and on I guess about how school was for me and the teasing I did see others go through and more of what I experienced, but eh.. Is it really necessary? I think I got my point across.. Did I even have a point to begin with? *grin*
When it comes to the intensity of being bullied and/or teased.. I guess I can say I was quite lucky.. I just hope that when I have my little ones and they are of that age, that they are also spared the worst of what's out there. And they better as hell not be the one to bully either.
*grin*
But don't worry.. I'm about to explain why..
It's because of 2 specific entries you posted. One post I had every intention of answering.. But then a few certain issues got in the way hence pushing this not only onto the furthest backburner possible, but the stove practically turned itself off as well *grin*.
The second post, though, really gripped me, and hard. And that is the post I am going to address first. So you guys out there are about to not only get me in a chatty mood, but you're all about to learn a few things about me you might normally not get a glimpse at.
Disclaimer: The link mentioned in
dr_nebula's post takes you to another post where the question was asked concerning bullying and tactics between the sexes. I'm not an expert on triggers, but even I couldn't read through those replies without shuddering. I can say that I know what it's like to relive a past situation and the emotions surrounding it, and I feel the intense need to warn anyone ad everyone that if you were affected by such situations, you do risk reliving if you read those replies.."Which gender is worse?", is pretty much the question raised. Well, I can only admit that I do not really know. I have always held to the fact that yes, girls and women are the more vicious, but I think that is because when it came to guys picking on each other, all I would be witness to were physical actions.
Girls, on the other hand.. lord'a mercy.. If a girl or a group of girls didn't like you, and they were predatory, dominant, controlling, saw you as competition or knew they would be protected by the girls who were, (and it was hella worse if they felt they needed to put you down to build themselves up and make them look good to everyone else) and you happened to be in their sights.. damn.. Unless you were able to stick up for yourself and show them that if they fucked with you you would hurt them in any and every way possible, you got turned into pate..
And I don't mean just physically..
I have seen things happen to girls by other girls that I don't think any boy their age could top unless it involved brute physical force. And even then it was nothing compared to what I read happened to some of those who responded to that post.
I just want to hug them all so tight and hard. My heart still hurts from reading all that.
You see, I have been teased before.. And on the rarest of occasions, I've been bullied without fighting back.. But that was when I was very young. (like kindergarten/first grade young).
That all changed as I got older.
I can only guess it was because I had a hell of a lot of anger and hurt already in me (which will I'm sure be fully explained in the next post), and I was the one to lash out physically, and frequently. On top of that, I guess you could say I was the one who beat up the bullies. If I saw someone picking on or physically threatening someone weaker than them (and I don't mean just coming upon 2 friends or enemies who started out in a yelling match that turned physical or anything like that), I didn't ask any questions. I waded in swinging.
That didn't always stop the bullying, I'm sure, but it was learned that if you wanted to pick on someone, don't let me catch you.
That lasted until about middle school.. by that time, the bullies in my school traveled in packs. Trust me, I got probably more lumps than I gave, but *shrug* If you were my friend or I knew you were getting picked on, I still jumped in.
But even then, it was rarely that bad. I did get picked on and got into more than enough scraps, but I don't think it ever got that bad. Also, for some reason that to this day I can't fathom, it would almost always work out that those I had fought before one year would pretty much be amongst my friends the next year.
I thought it was because then, you've shown that person that you can't be easily messed with. I didn't always get the best of them in those fights, but they learned that when I did fight..
I didn't fight to (physically) win.. I was trying to pretty much kill you. The fight no longer became about what caused the fight in the first place. And I fought dirty at every chance. It didn't matter that you could beat me up (and yes, that did happen), what mattered was that I would not make it easy for you. I could take and ignore verbal teasing. I could even take and ignore you verbally threaten to beat me up. But once you swung that fist, it was on.
I think what also helped was a mother who would defend me with the strength of every diety on earth and their minions, if I got in trouble. Now, to be specific, it wasn't that easy *grin*. The rule was this: If I got into a fight and I didn't (at least try to) win, don't come home. Because if I did, I was gonna get a whipping from her, then I had to go back to who got me in the first place and finish it.
But.. that rule came with stipulations..
First, said fight better not had started because I was picking on someone (see.. I better not be the bully).
If said fight could not be avoided, then the other person better swing first, and I better swing last. This meant that I was to avoid a physical fight if at all possible (I didn't like to fight, anyway), but if I was cornered or otherwise didn't have a choice, then I'd better prepare to physically defend myself.
It was understood that of course I'm not going to win every physical fight that came my way, but I damned sure better leave a mark on them that they would never forget. In other words your butt better go down trying..
If I got in trouble for fighting back, and the person who started didn't or it seemed they would get off with a simple "kids will be kids", then my mother would raise holy hell and high water.
So when I got into a fight, It was not uncommon to hear me yelling at the top of my lungs while swinging, "I'm going home! I'm going HOME!" (yes, my friends growing up would tease me about that. But see, they also understood why.. some of them I'm sure had a parent like my mother when it came to stuff like that)
See, the moral of her rule was not to never let anyone walk over me. Never to let anyone take advantage of me. Never to be a doormat.
My mother was picked on too when she was young. She was small for her age, quiet, and she was quite light~skinned with freckles and reddish~brown soft hair. 2 of her sisters were also light skinned, but with darker hair and they were also much older and had different personalities (they took after their father looks and skin~wise), while the other siblings were much darker (after their mother). And almost every other black woman knows how it can get for one who is light and freckly with soft hair and is quiet and intelligent and spoke more intelligently than they did.
Thing is, she had the patience of Job.. but the temper of the scorpio she was born on the cusp of (I used to tease her about that). Mix that with a Libra sense of fairness and justice (whether you believe in that 'astrological mishmush' or not I don't care, so nyah! *grin*), and push her to that point.. Well ask the boy she went off on with a 2x4 that was ~ as her sisters put it ~ bigger than her about how she reacted after getting her hair pulled and dealing with being teased. And they were distant cousins *grin*. The rest of the tale goes on to where the boy told his mom and they went and confronted my mom and her mom, and my grandmother took her shotgun, pointed it at them, and gave them til I don't know how much time to get off her porch with that mess..
Gotta love family, eh? *grin*.
Anyway, I digress. As I said, I got picked on and teased myself. I was a tad bit lighter then that I am now (especially when I was much younger), and I also had freckles. I also spoke properly with only a hint of slang (meh). What would one expect when one's mother is a retired second grade teacher? I was very intelligent, bright, read at least 3 grades higher than average, played 3 instruments, and was in sports (among other things). I got called wigger, white girl, zebra (as my mother could pass for white if she really wanted and you didn't look too hard, and my father was like milk chocolate), Old Yeller, Tweety Bird, Big Bird (for those not in the know, being light can sometimes mean you had a yellow tone to your skin, and those terms reflected that), and piss colored. I was told I could blend into the sand on the playground, I was so yeller. As I not only had light skin, I have hazel eyes that tended towards almost greenish at times, and I mostly hung out with boys, as I got older, the teasing would get worse. Now granted, if you came at me physically, I would rumble with you till the cows came home.. But this.. psychological shit..
I had to learn a whole new set of rules. And the last thing they included was a physical fight. That... was the Last Resort. What I did have in my arsenal was the fact I was a hell of a prankster/practical joker. Hey.. when you can't always beat them on their terms.. You learn quick to beat them on yours. And all through school and even college, I was ruthless with the pranks when I had to be. Best thing about pulling pranks was, I became one of those "Oh, kids will be kids.." *snicker*. I just had to know there was a limit to how far I could go before I did get in trouble. But once I learned it.. mwaha!
And it was the girls who would pull that psycological shit. Now, I wasn't the most popular girl in school, I wasn't a Prep, I didn't always wear the most popular brands (I wore what was comfy for me), I wasn't a jock (even though I was in sports), I wasn't in drama (I was in Marching Band though), I wasn't a nerd or geek (though I loved hanging out with the Chess club), and I wasn't an outcast. Actually, I was on the fringes of all groups. I had a thing for geeks (the jocks weren't smart enough for me, even those who were), I didn't really care when it came to it if you liked me or not, and my personality was (and still is) one where it was easy for me to make friends (Ugh, I sound like I'm bragging). Also, there were many of us who were parts of all groups, so differences were more tolerated. On top of that, being a geek was pretty kewl. I also had friends from all walks. I tended to mother those I friended, and one of the best memories of middle and high school was that I became mother and then grandmother and so on and so forth of a large group in my class and the ones below us (I don't know how that started, but those that called me mom had those of their own calling them mom and almost every other day I would bump into someone calling me Auntie Mel or Great~Grandmom or whatever, and I wasn't even yet graduated!). I still have the birthday cards I was given by my friends where they weren't made for a friend's birthday, they were made for a mother instead hehe.
I think it was that network and having the friends I grew up with, along with my ready attitude and smart mouth and fists, that staved off the worse of the bullying. Even some of the nicknames I had that I didn't like were given a different meaning when my close friends used them (Mellow~Yellow, Melancholy and Sugabear.. don't even think about it.. *growl*) and were more acceptable.
On top of that, I developed early. I didn't get my period until I was almost 12, and I had breasts much earlier than that. I'll find my grade school class pics and show you sometime. They weren't very prominent then, but the way I was sitting, you knew I had them. Before I left middle school I was about a C cup. When I was in high school my mom was wearing my old C cups. I was a D. The teasing I endured during then was thankfully short lived. I think that was the only time I was really teased by the boys in ways I could not just ignore. They would come up to me and either on a dare, try to grab my breasts, or hold out a cup to me and ask me to fill it up with milk for them. My reaction wasn't friendly.
The girls, on the other hand, would talk about me behind my back. I had to be a slut, of course, because the majority of my close friends were boys.. I had to be a slut, because the only reason I must have for hanging with the geeks and nerds was that I was sleeping with them to make them feel better about themselves. But that's mostly all they did.. Talk.. It hardly ever went further than that, because I was the one who would come right up to you and confront you. If you had a problem with me, then we can solve it Right. Here. And. Now. And I wasn't the only tomboy in my group. And I also wasn't the only one who stood up for those being picked on. Call me White Girl, slut, whatever, all you want.. I could just as easily shrug it off or tell you off in ways that would bring tears to Lucifer's eyes.. As long as you didn't become a physical threat, well then, you weren't anything of any importance to me.
I could go on and on I guess about how school was for me and the teasing I did see others go through and more of what I experienced, but eh.. Is it really necessary? I think I got my point across.. Did I even have a point to begin with? *grin*
When it comes to the intensity of being bullied and/or teased.. I guess I can say I was quite lucky.. I just hope that when I have my little ones and they are of that age, that they are also spared the worst of what's out there. And they better as hell not be the one to bully either.
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-10 01:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-10 01:14 am (UTC)When ever I am asked why I am the way I am...Like what trauma was in my life, I always say I wasn't abused by my parents. I was abused by my peers. I'm not really sure what the *first* thing was that caused me to be singled out. The theory that makes sense is I have red hair. I was also an only child. I was shy, and not athletic. I was insular and dreamy. I made friends, but never many at a time. And my friends were often social outcasts like myself. And in LaGrange the divide between the cool kids and the scrubs was developed and defined. After Mom and Dad divorced, and I moved into a poor black neighborhood, I was sealed.
My big thing in High School wasn't slut, though maybe they did call me that. Oh no..I was the school Devil Worshiper. It kinda hurt at first because quite honestly I was a Christian, but when has reality gotten in the way of social pecking. I remember still this strange interaction where these two girls in my Latin class, where we were known by latin names (Mine was Diana, randomly drawn, how ironic) were talking about this devil worshiper named Shannon Kight. They knew the name, but not the face. I leaned into the conversation, doing that, "really?" thing. They nodded and continued. Apperently I sacrificed cats and everything. I reached into my purse and pulled out my ID, then suggested they move seats. And they did. I realized I had power. After that I reveled in it.
I was stopped one day in my senior year by two freshman guys. The main one asked me if it was true. Was I a devil worshiper. They both had this mocking look. I sneered. "Oh yes," I said. "It's true. And not only that, tonight is the full moon. We're sacrificing virgins. We'll be at your houses at 8 o'clock. Wear something white." They scrambled away. It was funny. By then most of my friends didn't go to highschool anyway.
AD&D saved my happiness. My gaming group was my friends.
And still I know another who had it worse than me. My poor Angie is the one I mentioned on the phone wanting to cut a financial break to. This is her story.
http://www.livejournal.com/users/neintales/292796.html
http://www.livejournal.com/users/neintales/293066.html
no subject
Date: 2005-03-10 02:21 pm (UTC)But he and I grew apart, and I ended up fending for myself half of the time, which I did well. I was fast as hell and smart mouthed, which got me quite a few licks. But I never fought back.
Not until the seventh grade, when I finally got shoved over the edge in band class. See, there were these kids, freakin' huge kids, that would pick on me all the time. I'd lay down because I was sick across two chairs, and the biggest, who was easily over 6'2" at the time and weighed over more 240 to my measly 120, would jump onto my back and knock me between the chairs. He'd pin me down like that and they'd beat my skull with drum sticks or whatever. The band teacher would turn a blind eye because she didn't give a shit and they were the kids who would take us to state in the band competitions, and I wouldn't be one of them.
But I came home one day, crying and beaten up, and my mom about cried her eyes out. She told me I had to stand up for myself because she hated seeing me like that, and since I didn't like making my momma cry, I agreed.
Next day I went in, and one of them made a snide comment to me. I'd usually react, but I blew him off, and when he made another comment, I whipped around and clocked him in the temple. This was the huge kid I mentioned before, and when I socked him, he went down like a sack of bricks. When that happened, the others all backed away. One locked himself in the practice room, and another hid behind the drumset. The last one hid behind a friend, and when I started at him, he ran to hide in the bathroom.
One more bit of bullshit cinched the deal on them not picking on me.. at the end of the class, while walking out, one rammed a chair into the back of my legs to try and knock me down. I didn't go down, and wheeled on him, and he flushed white because he had his hands on the chair. I headbutted him and he went down like his friend, and I just went on from there.
After that, I got bigger. I started fighting back more, not just for me but for others. I gave my fair share of hits and got just as many back. I've been hit with a chain, a pipe, books, anything they could get their hands on. I've been a part of the southern tradition of 'It's a fight, so invite 20 friends' with me following my little code of honor and going it alone. I've been hit, dragged, cut, and threatened with so many things it isn't funny. But there was always one principle - show them you aren't scared and they fold. In the 20 on 1, knock their leader out and they'll lose all resolve. If they don't, a few more hits will send them packing. Show spine and they'll lose theirs.
But after awhile, it just stopped. They got tired of losing and they got tired of seeing me winning. They never did anything in front of me again, and were careful talking behind my back. I suppose I became the bully of the bullies.