Growing up, I was taught that bullying was never OK. Today I agree with that sentiment, although I’m sure as a child I had a few bullying tendencies that I outgrew rather quickly. While I don’t condone bullying or making others feel small, I’m actually grateful to my bullies from many years ago. Is it something I could’ve done without? Sure, but there’s a part of me that wouldn’t want to go back in time and change those experiences.
During my elementary-school years, I had some moments when I was bullied, but I didn’t take much offense to it since I knew most of the kids that would make remarks since kindergarten and it felt more like banter to me by that point. That changed when Lynn’s Ford School Annex closed its doors in 2009 and all the students had to transfer to new schools around the city. For me, I started seventh grade at Thurgood Marshall Middle School. I’m always slightly nervous when I enter a new environment, so back in middle school that feeling was amplified by an order of magnitude. On top of that, I was in classes with a lot more new faces than familiar ones.
When I was younger, I was quite the sociable kid and sometimes never knew when to stop talking. When I started to feel more comfortable at Marshall, that’s when that side of me started to come out. I aimed to make the best out of a bad situation and make new friends. That wouldn’t go as planned, as I was told I was annoying on multiple occasions. I had been told that before, so it wasn’t anything new to me. I could deal with being called annoying. There’s far worse things to be called, but it didn’t end there. Eventually, I would be bullied for things such as my sneakers, or hear “Is that from JCPenney?” remarks about my clothing (I would like to thank you, mom and dad, for supplying me with clothes even though money was really tight around this time). Then they became comments about how much I weighed, and eventually comments about me being gay (To Janae, I’m sorry for dating you to get the gay comments off my back, but you’re a really cool person!). There wouldn’t be a day when I would go to school without hearing all sorts of remarks and crude comments thrown my way. If it was only one person, I most likely would have cared less, but it was multiple people who seemed to want to attack me.
During that time, I never understood why people were so cruel to me. As an adult, I now understand, and watched people from this time of my life grow and turn into amazing people, but back then I couldn’t grasp the concept. From being cornered in the classroom or courtyard and verbally assaulted by a group of kids, to insulting messages on Facebook, I woke up every weekday wishing I didn’t have to go to school, although dropping out was not an option in my household. By this point I had questioned life, myself, and my faith. Why would God allow this to happen? Why would he send me somewhere every day just to be made fun of and belittled? The only people I could trust and go to were my family. My cousins Lindsey Crowley and Tyler Joyce were my only friends. For the rest of my time in seventh and eighth grade, I kept to myself. On most days, I wouldn’t speak with anyone unless I was spoken to or called on by a teacher. If I didn’t speak and minded my business, I wouldn’t catch as much flack as I had gotten previously. For me, this approach worked as the bullying went down significantly, but still happened on occasion. My life for almost two years was waking up, going to school, going home, and playing “The Sims.” I didn’t talk, barely did homework or classwork, and had essentially no life.
Then, it was time for high school. I chose Lynn English because it was a two-minute walk from my house. Before high school started, I had resented some of those who had bullied me, but holding onto those grudges felt pointless to me. Harboring some kind of hatred against people didn’t feel healthy, and part of growing up was realizing that people can change for the better. On the first day of ninth grade, I realized that some of the kids that bullied me in middle school were actually talking to me and treating me with kindness. I honestly didn’t need an apology or anything along those lines, because their actions spoke louder than words.
Although I didn’t hear any more remarks about the clothes I wore, my sexual orientation, or how annoying I was, I still received some comments about my weight. I had never realized how much weight I had gained over the years. Looking back at it now, it’s not really surprising since from seventh to eighth grade I was drinking way too much soda, eating an abundance of junk food, and laying around playing video games almost every day. Even when we had a physical at school and they labeled me as obese on the body-mass-index scale, I still couldn’t see it. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see how much weight I had gained. In my mind, it was my body transitioning into an adult body — definitely not the Fanta and jumbo honey buns I was eating on the daily. My family would tell me my belly was growing, and my grandmother would tell me I had chubby cheeks (Rest in paradise Grams, I know you meant no harm). It wasn’t until I was at a family event that I realized how much weight I had truly gained. After the event, my mom had posted photos all over Facebook, and you know how moms are really great at taking photos. I stumbled across a photo of me sitting on the couch eating ice cream. My first thought was “Wow, I look almost as big as the couch.” My new goal now was to lose weight.
Did I go about it in a healthy way? No. I did cardio for more than two hours every day and only ate a small salad with no dressing as my daily meal. It didn’t take long for me to lose the weight I really wanted. Coming back from school after winter vacation, I walked into my first class of the day and one of my best friends commented on how much weight I lost. A few classes later, my teacher pulled me to the side and asked if I was okay and if I was eating. Of course I lied, but I felt accomplished. When I went to my doctor for my physical, he congratulated me about the amount of weight I lost since the last time I had seen him. When asked how I did it, I told him I just exercised a lot, which wasn’t a complete lie. After my appointment, I got into the car with my mom, looked over at her, and asked, “Can we please go get KFC?”
After all that, I eventually started to make new friends and accept myself more. By my senior year, I had an amazing group of friends, was eating regularly, and just caring a lot less about what people thought of me (Since this is my column, I would like to shoutout Kelly Portillo, Yesica Pablo, Raynie Pierrissaint, Dina Reyes, Kseniya Synkevych, and Caitlin Murphy for making my senior year an incredible time). I now have a healthier relationship with food, go to the gym (Thank you to Eddie Dosanjos, who has been assisting me at the gym and helped me shed 20 pounds of COVID weight), and one of my favorite things to do is wake up at 5 a.m. and walk from Nahant Beach to Swampscott Beach and back to clear my mind and start the day off in a more positive mood.
Although I don’t condone bullying, I am, in a weird way, grateful for it. There is nothing somebody could tell me now that would hurt me or make me cry. The bullying I endured back then helped shape me and my thinking today. It wasn’t needed, but I wouldn’t change it.
So, thank you to my bullies.
