A bit about the bullies

If there is one post that I have been kind of putting off, it’s this one.  Not because I’m afraid of it or anything, but because words may be hard for me to find, and emotions may be hard to express.
I’ve stated before that I have always been the chubby girl.  I also, very briefly, mentioned that kids made fun of me and that was one of the reasons I continued to gain weight.
When I was in elementary school, at a very young age, I struggled with the concept that, although I was overweight, I was enough.  Kids will be kids, they love to point out differences, they’re curious, and although the majority of the time it isn't in malice, sometimes it is, and there was a group of kids that just tortured me. 
I have never understood the concept of bullying, and maybe that’s because I was the one being bullied, but I don’t understand intentional unkindness.  I don’t understand tearing people down to build yourself up.  So, in elementary, I didn't understand why people were being so mean when I did nothing to them.
I remember a time, I was in second or third grade, when I was just walking from lunch to recess, and one of my bullies was walking behind me making fun of all that I ate…which was what I was given for lunch from the school, so it didn't make sense.  He then went on to make fun of how my legs shook and that I was going to start and earth quake.  By this point I was in tears, but I kept walking.
Since I wasn't giving him any attention he just kept pushing and prodding me.  I was always taught to walk away, so that’s what I was doing, but it wasn't stopping and it was following me.  Eventually he started to call me “fat ass” and just would not stop laughing.  I’m sure he got bored, because I wasn't feeding his hate fire, and he just kicked me as hard as he could in my “fat ass” and running away said something about how I probably couldn't even feel that.
Well, he didn't get very far.  I may have been taught to talk away, but I was never taught to not fight for myself if things got physical.  Lucky for me my grandfather was a prized boxer, unlucky for him, my grandfather was a prized boxer. 
Yes, I did get sent to the principal’s office, and my mom was called in.  I didn't get in trouble, because he started it.  But as the principal, him, his mom, my mom and myself were in the office, his mom said to my mom, “I can’t believe that you would teach her that it’s okay to hit people smaller than her!”  Let it be known that, yes, I've been well over 5’5” since third grade, and yes I was chubby, but really…smaller than him?  Yes, yes he was, but maybe accountability should have been taken for his actions and not mine.  Anyway, for those of you who know my mom, that was the last straw, and…well, she destroyed my bullies mom.
This isn't the first incident, and it definitely wasn't the last.  To be honest, this happened more often than not, not me punching people in the face, but them following me and just torturing me with their words.
There was another time, probably sixth grade, we were learning how to measure things with a ruler.  People thought it was hilarious to measure how big my bum was.  I was sitting on the ground and they would sneakily come up behind me and go ahead and measure it.  I knew what was going on, but pretended that I was oblivious, it was just easier. 
It’s not right for a child in elementary school to struggle with their worth.  There were times when I wanted to cease to exist.  I promise I wasn't suicidal, but I thought it would just be easier for me, and even my parents. 
There wasn't one event that turned my mindset around.  I didn't have some profound talk with a loved one, and I didn't see a motivational picture.  But, one day I just realized that I was, in fact, worth it.  I do like to give credit to my parents, especially my mom, for consistently reminding me of my value and that I am loved no matter what.
I didn't stop gaining weight and I continued to be my usual adorable, quirky, sometimes off-the-beaten-path, self.  But, I realized that I was beautiful, I was fun, I was smart, and I was important.  J
So, fast forward to now.  I’m still struggling with my weight and I still have days where I struggle with my worth, I am, after all, human.  BUT, I know of my importance.  I truly know that I am not what I look like, but how I act and treat others.  My worth is not a number.  My value is not based on my size.  Rather both are based on my character.
Sure, there are some days that I need reminders.  One thing that I have done is written the words “You are more important than this number” on my scale…because I am.  I also, sometimes, and this is cheesy, pull a SNL Stuart Smalley (or the Help) and remind myself “I’m good enough.  I’m smart enough.  And doggone it, people like me!”  haha 

Don't mind the dirt and the smudges.  haha

When I have children, I hope that I can convey this message to them.  I pray that at a young age, they understand that they are loved beyond words, and that they are beautiful.
So, people can be mean.  It’s okay to cry, it’s okay to have a bad day.  But, in the end, you are more important than any number.  You are more important than a body type or size.  You are important, don’t let the world get you down.  



You have immeasurable worth, don’t you forget it, kid!  

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