When I was a child I made fun of – often. I was teased
because of my nose. The kids would sing the song from the Fruit Loops commercial.
In case you’re not familiar with it, it goes something like this; “Follow your
nose, wherever it goes.” It made me feel ugly. I never thought I was pretty. Celebrities
like Cher and Barbara Streisand were my heroes. They were talented and
beautiful to me. They kept their noses and were proud of who they were. I
wanted nothing more than to get a nose job. If I was in a crowd as an adult, I
would cringe and feel my heart race if the conversation turned to large nosed
individuals. This kept up until I was healed in my late twenties.
I guess being bullied could have made into a very angry or
bitter child. Maybe it could have made me hide and develop a shell around me.
Instead it made me fight back and turned me into the very thing I hated – a bully.
I’m not proud of that part of my life. I decided to be
proactive. I never turned away from a fight. I would fight with all my might.
If someone said something to me, I came back at them. I would get into fist
fights. I would never back down – ever. I became more outgoing. I became
whatever anyone wanted me to – a clown, a confident girl who flirts like I was
the most beautiful model in the world. You get the picture. I wrote this next paragraph
before, but I thought it fit with this story.
One day when I was 18 years old, I was on a city bus and noticed a girl
staring at me. I sat in the back of the bus and right before she was about to
get off, she looked at me. She asked, “Do you remember me?” I replied, “No, I’m
sorry I don’t.” The next thing she said went through me like a knife, “You used
to pick on me and beat me up when we were in grade school.” She then got off
the bus. I just wanted to crawl under a rock. I was stunned. I was speechless.
When my brain started to work again, I wanted to get off the bus and chase her
down and tell her how very sorry I was. I wanted to tell her I’m not the same
person. I was ashamed that I couldn’t remember the face of someone I caused
such pain. I didn’t have the decency to remember her name. But all I could do was
pray and ask God to forgive me. I prayed for her that she would find peace and
healing for the hurt I caused.
The making of bully for whatever reason, was not a pretty story. It wasn’t
pretty that I was tortured and it certainly wasn’t pretty what I did to my
victim. What it’s taught me is that I was what I was because of circumstances
of life. It didn’t excuse what I did but I’m grateful God healed me, changed me,
and helped me to be more loving.
