Saturday, December 8, 2012
Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder
What is ironic is a few years after I'd graduated from high school, Dear Hubby and I were at a little cafe having breakfast and who should walk in but one of my former tormentors. As we made eye contact I could feel myself shrinking up inside, but she walked over to me and started talking to me, telling me how nice it was to see me....how was I? How was life treating me? It was all very surreal, let me tell you. And I saw her a time or two after that, at the same cafe, and it was like that horrible time never took place between the two of us. How strange.
Dear Hubby had a conversation with another man about bullying the other day. Dear Hubby had his issues with it happening to him, too. This gentleman told Dear Hubby that he'd had it really bad in school but there was one boy in particular who tormented him especially. But he said not long ago this same boy...now a middle-aged man...had contacted him thru Facebook and apologized. He said he'd been haunted by his actions for years.
I know it has to be some kind of basic insecurity in the one who does the bullying, his/her attempt to make themselves feel important or 'better' by tormenting those around them. I know I survived my bullying but I can't say it hasn't left its scars. When Dear Hubby or my little grandsons tell me I'm beautiful, I just brush it away...I will never be beautiful. The ability to believe that was taken away from me 45 years ago. But I wouldn't go back and change those years. Sure, those words hurt and life lessons like that really stink. And yet those years helped shape my character...and I am compassionate, loving, and empathetic because of them. I won't go so far as to say "Thank you" to my tormentors, but I would like to tell them I survived.