When I was a little kid in elementary school, there was a boy who lived in my neighborhood and, of course, went to my school and he was a bully. We lived in the last cul-de-sac at the very bottom of a long hill of cul-de-sacs and this boy lived at the very top. But he often made his way down to the bottom of the hill and bullied we kids who lived down there.
One day at school, this boy started bullying me on the playground. He pinned me up against a chain link fence and wouldn't let me go free. I asked nicely, like the good little Christian girl I was taught to be. As I recall, it only made him grow nastier. I got scared. So I hauled off and kicked him in the shin as hard as I could. I got away.
But the playground monitor saw me kick the boy (but apparently didn't see what had prompted me to do so). I got reprimanded and made to sit against the wall outside the classroom for the rest of recess.
Over dinner at home that night, I recounted to my parents what had happened. I was feeling proud of myself and unjustly punished by the school. I thought my father would be proud of me, too. He was always trying to get my younger sister and I to "toughen up."
Well, not so. He got angry with me. He suspended dinner and proceeded to march me all the way up that long hill to the boy's house in the top cul-de-sac, forced me to ring the doorbell, and then forced me to apologize to that boy - that school and neighborhood bully.
I remember feeling so incredibly confused, as well as dismayed and betrayed by my parents. Betrayed and abandoned. I had stood up for myself against a bully who was physically threatening me, and I got into trouble for it (trouble that felt pretty serious to me, a child my father once later called a "goody two-shoes" because I was always so obedient and emotionally delicate).
So this was my first and early lesson on what would happen to me for standing up against someone - particularly a male - who was being abusive and controlling toward me. I got into trouble. I was rejected by my caretakers. I was punished and shamed. The cognitive dissonance was very hard to deal with especially at that young age.
It was an early and harsh lesson on how unjust and unfair the world can be. It was a lesson on not being able to trust my parental figures - those most important persons in my life who claimed to love me - not to trust them for protection or to stand up for me or to listen to or believe me. And it was a lesson in males lording power and control over me and winning at it.
It's a core spot inside of me from which now comes the anger at being told yet again to not take up any space, to not have any needs, to not have feelings, to not stand up for myself, to not have expectations about how other people treat me. I'm growing quite ragey and strong lately, against such messages. I WILL STAND UP FOR MYSELF. I WILL SPEAK UP. I WILL KICK SHINS (HARD!) IF NECESSARY. Don't threaten me. Don't diminish me. Don't try to demand that I disappear. Fuck you if you do. Guard your shins. And your nose. And your solar plexus. I AM GOING TO RESPOND WITH FIGHT! SORRY-NOT-SORRY if you don't like it.
