When I was a child, I was bullied. From about the 2nd grade on through high school, I was teased, picked on, taunted, and ignored. There were about 4 girls – all White – that I could actually call friend and these were Amy C, Christy G, Lois P, and Chrissy S; I also had a boy pal named Jimmy S whom I had a serious crush on. He was Greek American and the Greek American kids were always nicer to me than the other Whites. I didn’t even think of them as Caucasian until I was much, much older.
As I mentioned in a previous post on the topic of bullying, being bullied as a child had a serious effect on me and my relationships. By the time I was in my teens, I had declared myself a hater of people, a misanthrope, after reading about the term in either an Ann Landers or Dear Abby column. I even told a shrink that a misanthropist is what I considered myself, and she had no idea what I was talking about. She had to look up the term in a dictionary!
Being bullied is no fun but I never thought about ending my own life because of it. I’ve had no best friend all through life other than my brother and he wound up getting married on me, and while I did speak to some kids during my school years – Juliana C, Pamela H, Avni V, Candy Y, Jennifer R, and Alaranita S, among others – none of them were what I could call a ‘bestie’. I simply never was that close to any girl, and I damn sure aren’t close to any women now. I rarely trust my own gender. I’d have to say that my mother and my one remaining aunt are the two females I am closest to, and then my younger sisters.
I know the reason I never had any kids and for my coldness towards children is how I was treated by my peers when I was one myself. I don’t like young people at all, and I don’t know how to react when I am around them. I am okay with my nieces and nephews, but it’s painfully obvious to others that kids make me nervous. I stayed to myself as a child, and I do the same as an adult. All because of the bullying I had to endure in school – and sometimes, outside of it.
Remember the old saying, ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me’? It’s not fucking true one iota. I was called all sorts of ugly names as a kid – honky, yellow ass, White girl, and Whitey, by the Blacks of course. I wasn’t really picked on like that by the White students other than a few boys, and they never made fun of me in a cruel way…it was how they treated all the girls. I used to threaten Andy T and Jeffrey L with ‘liking them’ if I didn’t get a chocolate Zinger or Twinkie out of them for lunch, a form of bullying itself to be honest. I finally stopped though when they told me they liked me as a friend.
This one faggy Black sissy boy, Abraham – I will never forget how the tables were turned on that smug little project punk when we sang the song ‘Rocka my Soul in the Bosom of Abraham’ and all the students laughed at him – was always on my case, with his snide remarks and petty shit. He had the nerve to wave at me, in his prissy girlish manner, when he saw me during an assembly at the local bigwig high school. I should have ignored him, but I think I waved back. I hope he died of AIDS. Sad but true.
I have never been close to Blacks outside my family, and the reason I don’t care to date Black men is because of the way I was treated by my fellow Blacks during my formative years. A person never forgets that type of conduct, not ever, and while I know I was never laughed at and made fun of by Black adults, except a retarded bitch ‘taking up’ for her simple-minded kids just because the bus driver was partial to me, the bullying I endured has so affected me that I tend to avoid people who remind me of those that taunted me as a child to this very day. I guess it will always be like that.