I spent a good chunk of time one evening last week watching the news and I nearly lost it after hearing about this story.
Bullying disgusts me. I remember once when I was in my 7th grade English class a boy who shall remain nameless called me “zit face.” At the time, I was convinced that I was going to die right there at my desk due to severe humiliation. It was just so mean. Sure, I did have some seriously scary pimples, but that was for me and my bearded dermatologist to discuss, thank you. (Dr. VanGurp, if you’re reading this, bless your sweet acne-curing soul.) Thinking about it now, I can’t believe how much that little comment got under my skin (see what I did there?), but it did. And it still does.
Anyway, the whole thing got me to thinking about bullying and being a woman and the things I sometimes find myself saying/thinking about others. There’s just too much good stuff in the world to waste it gossping about things that don’t matter.
And then I start thinking about all the little people that are coming into my life. My nieces and nephews. My friends’ new babies. My future kids. My neighbor down the street who practices volleyball in the front yard. I sure don’t want them to get bullied or be a bully.
What’s that mean for me? For us? I’m not really sure. But I’m convinced that looking at the good in others is important. Everyone has it. So, let’s celebrate that.
After all, maybe if that boy in my class had looked past my pimpled cheeks, he would’ve learned that I had a serious love of Harry Potter novels. And then I would’ve given him some of my delicious Harry Potter-themed jelly bellies that I had stashed in my pocket. Right beside my prescription acne cream.