When I started writing I did it to quiet my critics. I didn’t do it for myself. I think that my biggest critic is myself. Knowing where I came from and how I got where I am now is something I have dealt with for a long time.
I grew up in different places, I learned different things from the places I lived. I understood that I would always have bullies to deal with. This is a fact that I have dealt with in my adult life as well. There is always someone who thinks they should treat someone a certain way because they have a certain authority.
In Middle School I was that kid, the one that got picked on a lot. I remember getting put in lockers, getting beat up and when my dad asked what happened I would say the only thing I knew, “I fell at school.” There are somethings I couldn’t say to my dad, that I was miserable and hated my life is one of them.
Now I am the dad and I think my son is the one being bullied.
I told my son from a very early age that if he needs to tell me something he could. I don’t think he believed me. When I took him to school on Tuesday he wanted me to wait with him. He didn’t want to stand with his class, he wanted to stand next to me and his little sister, something he has never done before.
I honestly hope he isn’t being bullied, but I know the look he had on his face. I had it many times.
My biggest fear is that my son will be bullied the way I was in school.
I had some very sadistic people at my middle school. There were times the teachers would join in with the bullies and the class. To see someone you should trust treat you like that was hard to take.
I guess that was why I left my dad’s to live with my mom and stepdad. I couldn’t take the torture anymore. There were more than a couple of times I brought a weapon to school to deal with the bully. I just never had the courage to do it.
I guess that is what made me different from them, I cared about others and they didn’t.