When I was in 6th grade, a boy in my gym class made fun of me for being “fat” (I went through a chubby few years right before puberty & briefly in high school when a med made me gain weight.) He made fun of my high forehead (yeah I have a “five head” – I should probably get bangs), my big nose (I’m Italian/Portugese & it shows in my schnoz), and my “mustache” (the hairy Italian genes again – tweezers are my friend.)
This weekend we took our kids to a birthday party, and guess who was there. It seems he is somehow related to the host. I am 33 and this was probably about 22 years ago, yet seeing him made anger rise up to my throat like it was yesterday.
Yes, I daydreamed of saying something to him. Did he even remember me? Probably not. Did he have any idea how hurtful the things he said were? How would he feel if his son treated a girl that way? Does he have any daughters? Part of me would have gleefully loved to stoop to his level, remarking on the state of his hairline.
In the end I bit my tongue, came home and vented a little bit to my husband and a friend. I can get bangs, wax my “mustache,” work out, and even get surgery on my nose. There’s no plastic surgery for an ugly heart.
Come back after you’ve experienced life as a teenage girl 😉
Probably because I am older, but I feel embarrassed for all of you. Still traumatized by comments decades ago??! Toughen up. Look in the mirror and have some confidence! I taught my children to ignore idiots and bullies. “Those loser kids will be cutting your lawn 20 years from now”. The world is full of insensitive mean people and always will be. They are miserable, weak minded with poor character. They are beneath you. You are better than them. Who cares what they say and think? Learn to ignore them-not run and cower in self pity.
I was told ‘you don’t think you’re pretty, do you? because you’re not’… I was then sexually harassed by the same guy, and once I finally told ( no one had the words for SH then, by the way)… I was literally surrounded by ill meaning family members of his (we were NOT related to this extended family)– at least half a dozen– and told that was just how they did things in their family so get used to it.. I was REALLY damn glad I was not part of that family if that was ‘normal’ to them. Gross.
I’ve finally forgiven those jerky 5-18 year olds (yup I was picked on my entire school career)– but like you, I understand how much you’d probably like to take a jab at the guy. Literally or not.
.. and I still don’t feel beautiful. Ever.
But Jill, you are beautiful. You are an incredible person and that doesn’t fade with age like “supermodel beauty” does.
I was picked at for the wrong shirt, wrong hair pin and wrong deodorant when I was all of 10 years old. Yes the hurt stays with you. My kids are the bullies. I thank god for that, but I hurt for them when they are being bullied.
It’s silly to think about. When I look back at mean things I have said to others I feel terrible. I wonder if others feel the same. Do they look back and with they didn’t call you fat? Or ugly, or anything else?
When I was in fourth grade I was the last one picked for dodgeball, and the two captains faught over who had to have the girl with breast implants. Yay for early blooming! 🙁
It still hurts to think about. :/
Children can be so mean. I hope my children aren’t hurtful. 🙁
You are reminding me of the time when a girl came up to me in the bathroom in 6th grade and said “Cindy wants to know: why’d you stuff your bra?” (Not stuffed.) WTF is wrong with people?
It was always fun when (very rare) one of the “last to be picked” kids was selected to choose a team in P.E. They never chose the best/fastest/most popular kids. They tended to choose the nicest first & the nasty kids were last. 😉
I am sure I’ve said things that were hurtful to others either in jest or out of stupidity. I’d never intentionally hurt someone’s feelings.
People are so cruel Kids in particular don’t understand until they’re older how hurtful their words can be even then some people don’t care. Adults can be just as bad.
I think quite often they learn it from their parents. It’s been interesting to see my daughter go to school with kids of people I went to school with. She’s telling me about this mean kid and when I saw who his mother was I was like oh, it all makes sense now.