Every night before bed, the ladybugs want a story about when Daddy or Mommy were little. Jim actually started this tradition, because frankly he has quite the stories about his youth. I have such a hard time coming up with ideas, not so much because I don't have memories but because my memories are filtered through the eyes of one who was bullied.
It is no surprise to you, reader, that I was bullied as a child. I've made references to this fact on many occasions through the years of blogging. However, even the act of writing "bullied" makes my heart begin to race. It is very apparent that the bullying I encountered years ago colored the facets of the woman I am today. It is completely impossible for me to talk about the activities I was in without having unhappy images flash through my mind. One would think that sharing stories of my youth would not bring up such images, but maybe this is completely normal.
I am not oblivious to the "eat or be eaten" mentality of children. We all know that you are either the bully or you are the one getting bullied. And one who is getting bullied can easily deflect the process by being a bully him/herself. Sad, but true.
I was the kid that couldn't understand why other children behaved so rotten to each other. I was always feeling sorry for the downtrodden and the kid that was stuck inside for recess because his desk was a mess. I found myself having no problem staying in to help - because even then I sensed that some people are just messy. It is not their fault. Anyway, my empathetic behavior was quite odd (I do realize this) and it only fueled the flames of bullying behavior from my peers. Subsequently I had a really difficult time making (and keeping) friends.
My sister never had friend issues growing up. Was it because her friends weren't mean to each other? No. But my sister wanted to fit in, and in her defense she chose decent people to fit in with. However, some of those kids were the same ones who bullied me. Even though my sister stood up for me, she seemed to be oblivious to her group of friends berating others. She has since found making and keep friends difficult. For me it has always been this way - for her, not so much. My crust is thick; hers is getting there.
Since my sister is in her 30s, you can deduce I am speaking about adults bringing on the bullying. I think one of the saddest things is that bullying does not end in youth. You can almost understand why a child who is ignorant of the world would be prone to picking on what he/she doesn't understand. However, the children who were bullies in school more than not continue their path of bullying as adults. We all know about the "good 'ol boys club" in the work place, but I think more often then not moms provide the script for many bullying scenes. Are you surprised I say "moms"? Then obviously you are either a) not a mom, or b) a mom of an infant or c) a bully yourself.
Zoe's birth seven years ago was a true turning point in my life. I had left my music business and took time off after her birth to just be a mom. I really lost my identity and thus decided to attend a new mom's group at the hospital where I had given birth. There were a ton of moms at the meeting, but more then that there were moms discussing many topics of contention: diapers, feeding, and sleep patterns. A baby doesn't "do" much, so you can only discuss those topics which fit your child.
Anyway, I could sense the bullying right away in the conversations happening simultaneously. A mom who uses disposable diapers? She will ruin the environment! How can you breast feed? You will never be alone again. You use cloth diapers? Why would you want to spend all that time washing them? You use formula? Seriously? That is just junk food for your baby!
I only came to a few meetings. I must say that I am only friendly with one of the women from that group - and by friendly I mean Facebook. I did suffer form some depression after having Zoe, and the moms group only fueled my pain. I struggled to see the point of having friendships that were essentially breeding grounds for moms with low self esteem to bully other moms with low self esteem.
The point is this: we are all different. We all come from different backgrounds with a multitude of experiences that shape us. There is no such thing as, one size fits all...or one size fits most. We need to be secure in ourselves and our decisions; regardless of what someone else tells us (or tries to shove down our throats). I agree that this is easier written (or said) than believed. I struggle constantly with whether my decisions are good for my family. However, I would rather concern myself for what works for us than how others perceive my decisions.
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