When I was in the final year of primary school I was bullied by a bunch of girls who didn’t appreciate the fact that one of the boys ‘liked me’ (oh patriarchy how successfully you pitch females against each other in pursuit of the male gaze) or that I’d decided to try out for the school musical and attained one of the lead roles.
As an adult, I realise that going for what I wanted in life was triggering for at least a couple of those girls who, for whatever reason, didn’t feel they could do the same.
As a child though, I had no idea why my friends suddenly didn’t like me. I didn’t know that my ‘successes’ could be perceived as threatening to others.
Anyone that’s been bullied will know what a negative effect it has on your willingness to be visible in the world. While you’re being bullied, you come to associate visibility with danger, ridicule, shame. You learn to dim your light and hide yourself to stay safe from harm.
In that year, there were many times when I hid in the library, waiting out the recess or lunch periods, only to have them come and find me, just to let me know they could. There were times when I thought I’d be safe in the bathroom only to have the girls stand on the toilet seat of the adjacent cubicle so they could lean over the wall and spit on me. Or I’d be walking through the playground and they’d corral me into a corner and force me to trip over one of their legs, laughing at me as I lay on the ground with scraped and bruised knees. There were times when the bullying extended outside of the school gates and I’d see large, derogatory messages written about me on public property. (That one had huge visibility implications because it was one thing for all the kids at school to know what was happening, but for the adults to see my humiliation too? Would the horrors never end?)
It was hard at the time to find a place that felt safe. My home was a comfort until they decided to bring the bullying to my front door. I lived on a t-intersection and I remember looking out the window one day to see a few of the girls walking up the street that ran perpendicular to our house. I remember the knot forming in my stomach and the growing sense of horror when they crossed the road and stepped onto our front lawn. I remember crying to mum that I wouldn’t go and speak to them and I remember my entire nervous system being on high alert for the rest of the day, worried they might return and harm me in some way.
These experiences were among the first that I worked on when I started doing personal development work many decades ago. And yet, it wasn’t until I started the School of Visibility that I uncovered a whole other layer of work to be done; on the visibility blocks and fears caused by bullying. (At the time I hadn’t made the connection between my resistance to growing my audience and my experience of being bullied.)
Having now done that work, there are some things I wish I could have said to my younger self at the time. If you can relate to any of my experiences, perhaps they’ll be comforting to your younger self too, or to someone you know that’s being bullied.
Dear younger self,
I’m so sorry this is happening to you. This is older version of you. One that’s on the other side of the hell you’re experiencing right now. I’ve a few thoughts to share with you.
Keep going. I’m so proud of you.
Life is long. Hold on. Better things are coming.
With all the love in my heart,
Your older self x
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