Log in

No account? Create an account
entries friends calendar profile My Website Previous Previous Next Next
The bully - Sing With Me If It's Just For Today... — LiveJournal
If I should fall behind, Guyster, wait for me.
The bully
I’m a bully. There. I said it. You happy? It was a revelation that came from my last therapy session. I still have a red mark on my forehead from the V-8 slap I gave myself. Robyn, my whole earth lesbian therapist whose hair looks like Moses parted it, posed a question I don’t remember ever being asked – were you a bully in school? I had to answer, yeah, sure. Did you get into fights? A few times but mostly they were stand-offs. Why were you a bully? Because I was bullied by Jimmy Bradstrater in seventh grade who figured out my name rhymed with fairy, and I had big ears. Did I bully those weaker than me?

At this point, I looked at her as if she were from Venus. Of course, I bullied those less capable of kicking my ass. There were a few I even tortured; Katie Pozorski, a plus-sized girl with bad grooming habits and a penchant for rocking back and forth in her desk chair while lightly fumbling her fingers together with rapturous focus, and Mitch Maragay, emphasis on the gay. There were others but those two, in particular, I made miserable. I also got Bradstater off my ass because of my easily accessed cruelty. I made my bones.

I was not, however, a bully to Russell. Quite the opposite, and as much as I love him, he bullied me for ten years. That wasn’t about to happen again after we split up. Billy was an easy target. He didn’t see it coming until it was too late. His Navy years made him a scrappy guy, not a pushover at all, but I had more practice. Putting our years through the bully filter makes me want to trip myself in the hallway and put my head in the toilet after knocking my own books from my arms. Seriously, I can’t quite quantify how sorry I am for some of those times, those awful moments I gave my baby.

On the way home last night, I wondered if there was a Bullies Anonymous. If so, there certainly had to be a chapter in DC. I called Mickey and told her my realization. She paused and said, “Yeah, but it’s fun to be a bully, you gotta admit,” and laughed that mocking signature laugh, and I understood why she’s one of my best friends. We’re kindred bullies still fighting on the schoolyard.

Fuck the fun, though, yo. I have a lot of shit to make up for in this life.
6 comments or Leave a comment
ahedonia From: ahedonia Date: June 2nd, 2004 09:20 am (UTC) (Link)
I’m a bully. There. I said it.

Hey, welcome to the Unwanted Realization Club, population: everyone who grows and hence, everyone worth knowing. I learned that I spent my whole childhood a professional victim, as finely trained by my domineering mother as if she'd actually sent me to finishing school for it. My kicked-puppy demeanor upon hearing bullying was practically a siren song calling them out of the woodwork. I gave good victim -- if you wanted a good satisfying bullying experience then I was your go-to gal.

I'm not now. :)

You happy?

Actually, yes, quite. :) Because, as noted above, acknowledgement is the first step leading to everything. Knowing about how I started leads to my being able to be different now.

So back off, buster! *grin*
fabulist From: fabulist Date: June 2nd, 2004 09:33 am (UTC) (Link)
Billy had the best armor in the world, Terry--he knew your true-blue heart that was often hidden under your worst instincts, and he always knew it well, even when at the worst times. All the meanness and abuse in the world can't beat down a man who's armed with that knowledge--it can only make him more open, more loving, and more ready to forgive your excesses.

Remember that he always came back to you, at least when he had a choice in the matter.
quuf From: quuf Date: June 2nd, 2004 11:41 am (UTC) (Link)
A little essay of Wislawa Szymborska came to mind when I read your post. She was writing about Tolstoy's wife:

She endured his repeated, unexpected fits of petulance, the scenes he provoked in restaurants, shops, and casinos . . . But . . . she was happy, she wanted to be happy, she managed to be happy and couldn't even conceive of greater happiness . . . We're dealing here with the phenomenon of great love. Detached observers always ask in such cases: "So what does she (he) see in him (her)?" Such questions are best left in peace . . .

My point: You were worth it all, T. And I bet you still are.
ruralrob From: ruralrob Date: June 2nd, 2004 08:24 pm (UTC) (Link)
Yeah, sure, td, you may have been a bully, but methinks you be a bit of a softie, too. In the nicest possible way, of course.
duffymoon From: duffymoon Date: June 4th, 2004 11:41 am (UTC) (Link)


I'm suddenly feeling the urge to pull my crumpled-up lunch money out of its place in the 'Field Guide to Ferns of the Great Lakes Region', and hand it to you, then run. Why is that, do you think?
guysterrules From: guysterrules Date: June 4th, 2004 12:20 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: hmmm

Don't worry, Duffy. Those days are over. See? I'm a new man with a new leaf. Keep your lunch money. Here. Let me help you find your fern, ya big nerd!
6 comments or Leave a comment