A Letter To A Bully

AN OPEN LETTER TO BULLIES

Mr./Ms./Miss/Mrs. Bully:

Do you know the power you actually hold?

Do you know the weight your words literally carry?

Do you realize the influence you have on another person's life?

No?

Well, I'll try my best to explain it to you, because if you truly don't know, then maybe this will help you understand what you're doing. But if you do know, then maybe this will help you see and maybe change your behavior. Either way, I hope it helps someone be a better person.

I want to begin by saying that I am NOT ultra sensitive, or thin-skinned, a snowflake, or any of those catchy phrases that you guys hang on others because you need a reason to justify YOUR words and actions. You need to place blame on the one getting hurt so as not to feel bad about the cruelty you are inflicting on the innocent. That's because, in your heart, you know what you do is terrible, but if you make it about the one being hurt, then, hey, the weight is off your shoulders, right?

I am going to say something that my son will probably be upset for me telling but if it helps even one child or one adult, then I want to tell it. I'm sorry son, but I feel the need to share what happened to you.

Many years ago when my son was only eight years old, he began having seizures. He inherited it from me, unfortunately. The doctors prescribed a medicine for him that had a side effect of rapid weight gain. In nine months, my son gained almost seventy pounds. Some of it was due to eating, but most of it was because, the medicine, for some reason, inhibits your metabolism. I watched him go from wearing a little boys regular size to having to buy men's pants and cut almost half the leg length off and have them hemmed. It was hard to find school uniforms in his size, it was hard to watch him as he struggled to run with the kids at school, it was hard to see him out of breath, struggling to do the things he did with ease, only a year prior.

I began to notice a change in his personality. He was once outgoing, laughing, smiling and loving school, but morphed over time into an introvert, who hated school, stopped laughing and became distant with me and his father. I watched his grades begin to fall. That was NOT my son.

I questioned him as to what was going on but, of course, he wouldn't tell me. I asked about school, his friends, his teachers, anything I could think of that may have been causing his sadness. He clammed up. He got to the point where he was “sick” a lot and would ask to stay home from school. At first, I thought he had a stomach virus, so okay. But then I noticed a pattern and I began to question him again, this time, in depth. I made it okay for my son to share with me. I let him know he could trust me and tell me anything. That's when he began to disclose the horrible events that were taking place at school every day. It's hard to even write this because each time I think about it, my heart breaks for my little nine-year-old boy who suffered so much at the hands of cruel bullies.

It wasn't easy, because each time he revealed something to me, he relived what had happened to him. But over the next few days, he shared with me all that was going on with the mean boys.

He told me there were three boys in his class, who played sports and were bigger than he was, that would push him into the bathroom every day and shove him in the stall and barricade the door. They would push him down the stairs when no one was around and one of the boys hit him at times. They called him “fatty patty” and other cruel hurtful names because he looked different than they did. In class, they would hit him in the ear and the back of the head when the teacher wasn't looking and when she was out of the room, they would sit on him and hold him down. My son lived with this each day in a private Christian school in our small community where I knew most of the other parents. I had no idea that he was being hurt each day and suffering greatly at the hands of kids who seemed to hate him because he was overweight.

After he told me about it all, I literally had to take a couple of days to calm down before I went to the school because I knew it wouldn't be good for me or for them. You see, when someone hurts your child, you will do anything in the world to protect them, so cooling off was the best thing I could do for all of us.

I thought about how to handle it and off I went. I had a talk with the teacher, the principal, and the assistant principal, who all assured me that it would be stopped and those responsible would be punished. I believed them, so I went home and sent my son back to school.

The kids were asked about their behavior and they denied it, of course. They claimed they were only playing and my son liked it because it was all a joke.

Things got worse for him. The boys escalated their violence toward them and my son got more depressed. I asked him if it was still going on and he told me, yes. I went back to the school and again had a meeting. NOTHING was done. You see, the boys were the children and grandchildren of teachers at the small school. So, of course, they knew they could do whatever they wanted to do to anyone and not have to be held accountable for their actions. The principle had inadvertently sent a message to them and to my son that is was okay to bully others. And so they did. I kept my son home a lot after that, which caused him to fall behind in his work, but I couldn't continue to do that, so he went back.

I found out that two little girls his age had taken him under their wings and were protecting him from the boys. They loved my son and they stood up for him when the principals and teachers wouldn't. I paid the school a visit one last time and made it clear that if nothing was done, I would take it up outside with the other mothers and grandmother of those boys. I was ready to go to the mat for my son. I would have fought to the death to help him.

The behavior subsided when the teachers were in the room, but every chance those little heathens got to torment my son in the bathroom, they still did it. I ended up having to take him out of that school and homeschool him for the rest of the year. The following year, I put him in another, smaller school where things were different. He flourished there. He returned to his old happy, smiling self because those kids were good to him and didn't treat him any differently because of what he looked like. They treated him the same as they were because he was a person, just like them. My son was not odd because of being overweight. He didn't deserve to be beaten up because his physical appearance was different. My son was a child just like the others. He just happened to carry a little more weight, that's all.

People are bullied for so many reasons. Their weight, their looks, their skin color, their clothes, their religion, their sexuality, and so on. But it's NEVER okay to hurt someone else because they don't look like you do. It's NEVER okay to make someone else feel bad about themselves because they don't have what you have or don't like what you like or don't live as you live. We are all free to do and be who and what we want.

DON'T ever make someone else feel bad about who they are.

DON'T ever shame someone because they look different or are overweight.

The mother in me still remembers those kids and sometimes wants to tell them off to this day, but the love of God I try to walk in each day says forget about it and let it go. It's hard to watch someone you love being hurt by others who are hateful and mean, but it happens.

I always taught my son to be okay with who he was, to love himself regardless of what he looks like because it's who he is in his heart that makes him special. It's not anything on the outside but everything of who you are. It's not what you have or earn in life that makes you, it's how you treat others.

Those boys who tormented my son were ballplayers who had the best clothes and coolest shoes, but they were ugly inside. I didn't want my son to be that way, so I taught him how to love himself. There will be times in life when others are cruel to you and they will try and put you down because you are different. Don't allow that. Don't accept it. Know who you are and know you are special and your differences are what make you unique.

There's a reason that people buy things that are labeled “one of a kind”. It's because they are unique and different. If we can just teach our kids and our adult selves that being different is okay because it means we are one of a kind, and that makes us valuable, then that's half the battle right there. The other half is educating kids and adults about how it's NOT okay to make fun of, hit someone else, or kill others because they are different.

I know this was long, but in the end, I want you to take away this one thing. Love yourself and love others no matter their weight, gender, religion, skin color, what they look like, whether they have a disability, their sexual orientation, etc. Because we are all the same on the inside.

Parents, talk to your kids about NOT being a bully. Parents, talk to your kids about BEING bullied. Parents, TALK to your kids. Those parents at that school were under the false sense of security that their boys would never act that way. Those parents were blind as to who they were raising.

I was blessed by the fact that my son opened up to me. There are many mothers and fathers right now in the world who aren't so lucky. Their son or daughter took their own lives because they couldn't deal with being hurt on a daily basis, and that breaks my heart. From one mother to another, teach your kids about love, for others, for themselves.

Sincerely,

A loving mother.

LOVE wins every time.

#saynotobullying #stopthehate #embracethedifferneces

Christy Adams © 2017