“Everyone is weird. If you think you’re not weird, you’re really weird.”
–Susan Bradford
When I was a kid, I did not have many friends. I was surrounded by people, but I was lonely. It was important to “fit in” and I could never fit anywhere. I judged myself inwardly and out, was filled with anger and sadness. I thought there were many “imperfections” about my body, so I tried to hide under a large jacket and wore over-sized clothing so that no one else would see me the way I did. It is difficult to find happiness when you are comparing yourself to the “popular kids.” If you can believe it, everyone is feeling the same way you are. When others are mean, it’s because they are trying to deal with their own “imperfections.” No one is perfect, and growing up is hard.
Middle school in the 90s was difficult, but social media had yet to poison young minds. I cannot imagine what it must feel like to live a life counting your “likes” and “hearts.” My world was free of cyber bullying and I did not exist behind a screen. We had “regular” bullying, which still exists today. Youths are taunted for many reasons. I remember the phrase:
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
Words pierce us like knives. They do hurt. Not physically, but they sink deep into our bones and produce rivers of tears. People can be cruel, and often it’s because they are also hurting. It’s important to accept our differences and to own our “imperfections,” because a body is a home for your soul. Inside everybody is a person doing their best to tread water.
On Wednesday afternoons, when I was 12 years old, my mom lead a group called “Kid’s Fellowship,” focused on anti-bullying and communicating without physical altercations. She wrote the slogan:
“Build each other up. Don’t tear each other down. Don’t bully, boss, or push around.”
We worked on getting along with each other and some of us became close friends. It was a good way to cooperate and play together, resolving conflict peacefully. We did not “post” or “comment” virtually, and we weren’t attacked with negative reviews. We argued and worked through our issues with “real” words. There was no texting. There were no photos of our lunch for the world to see. There was no callous, virtual body shaming. Eating disorders were not encouraged. Bipolar disorder was not a fad.
If I could send a message to my twelve year old self, I would tell her to be brave. It takes courage to be a teenager, especially at the beginning. I want her to know how special she is without a doubt, and that being different is a beautiful way to live life. Though she felt alone, she never was. It escaped her vision. Twelve year old Samantha had many challenges, but a marvelous truth existed in her world. She had people she could trust, and asking for help was one of her greatest steps toward healing.
When you feel lost, turn to the people you love. They are waiting to help as soon as you are ready to share this burden. You do not have to face your problems alone.
This is not the end of your story.
–SJB