When I was in high school there were many defining moments that told me who I was. One of those moments was when I was walking down the hallway in school. There were several girls walking behind me, calling me names, commenting negatively on the way I was dressed, calling me a dirtbag and making spitting noises. It wasn’t until I dodged into the bathroom that I realized that they had spit in my hair. I cleaned my hair out through tears in my eyes and stared at myself in the mirror. I knew I wasn’t rich, I wasn’t good looking, and I didn’t have name brand clothes, but even then I think I knew that I didn’t deserve that.
I know you Mean Girl. I know you Mister Bully. I know you so much better than you know yourself. I know that deep down inside of you, you are so unsure of yourself that if you do nothing about it, it will haunt you the rest of your life. I know you think you are defined by the clothes you wear, being up-to-date on the latest fads and fashions, how much money your parents make and how many “friends” you have. I know your life is not as perfect as you try to make everyone believe. I know that your are struggling too. I also know that most of you will end up in failed relationships later in life. I know that it will be so hard for you to have compassion for other people because you never had compassion for yourself. It will take those failed relationships, years of solitude, possible single parenting and major humbling experiences before you actually start to look inside of yourself and start growing within your Self. Or you know, you could start now.
But you see, while you were busy spitting in my hair I was busy making sure that I never treated anyone the way that you treated me, I was busy making sure no one ever sat alone at lunch, I was busy telling myself that those things that made you believe you were better than me were things that were never going to last. I was busy making friends with the other bullied kids, while some of them will continue to be tormented by your words, I knew I never would. But just like those kids you bullied you would be tortured as well. And all of those things I was busing myself doing brought color into my life. I actually saw the world differently than you from a very early age. I learned to depend on myself and even though I didn’t always listen to the positive voice inside of my head, it has always been present and it’s made my journey to myself so much easier. I had, in some part because of you, the chance to protect my heart and grow my soul in ways that you will have to work so much harder for later in life. Being mean and being a bully robs you of the chance to contribute positively to others, but more importantly to yourself.
I challenge you, Mean Girl and Mister Bully. Stop. Ask yourself, what truly makes you feel good. I’m not talking about that fleeting moment in the hallway when you spit in someone’s hair and all of your friends laugh. I’m talking about those moments when you think about your day and you go to sleep smiling, happy that you did something that contributed to the well being of someone else, because ultimately you are contributing to your own well being.
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