Bullying: An Epidemic Cycle

I started writing a somewhat mini teenage survival guide a few years back in reaction to noticing the rise in school bullying. I got pretty far but found myself stuck. I put it aside to gain some perspective on the subject but it gathered dust. I struggled trying to get past a particular section of the lessons learned. As I was having this writer's block, I was watching more and more reports of bullying that was reaching across the internet. I was getting disgusted with the excess of reports because of my own experiences and how those episodes scarred me. You should do your research. You should have a look at the bullying statistics on the pacer.org site. See how many people are affected and read some of the heart-wrenching stories. See how many students skip school because of being picked on. I did that.

I wasn't ready to let my memoire on the subject matter out, though, until, I recently watched a hurting teen pour his heart out on YouTube over being tormented by his fellow classmates. I found myself moved to tears and not just by his touching bravery; but because it also brought up some of those haunting memories from my personal past. Memories so hurtful, that they took a bit of my personal power away. It's taken me a lot of time to come to terms with it, or so I thought I had. Watching this teen in pain made me realize I wasn't really over my ghosts in the first place. I had only buried them. Even as an adult, it took me the past week to process it all. After much reflection, I've since come to realize that I need to face the fire. I'm tired of being held hostage by these particular personal history phantoms.

Like many people out there, I, too, was bullied. It felt like most of my childhood. The sad thing is that it started in, what should have been the sanctuary of, my own home. You see, my dad was a bully in school and he was so proud of this factor that he would brag about it to my siblings and me growing up. Then, in the same fashion as he did in school (I suppose), he would figure out our insecurities and pick on us about them relentlessly. He would get amused by making us cry. No joke! He would tease us until we burst into tears and then laugh hysterically at our weeping. It was so cruel.

We, learning the behavior from our father, would then take cue to pick on each other. My dad would even encourage the mocking between us and laugh as we were mean to each other. I know they say it's normal for siblings to pick on each other but that doesn't make it right. What might seem playful to some, can be quite harmful to the target of the situation and, with my siblings and dad, it seemed like we would take it to a whole new level. I found myself either in my room, crying into my pillow or outside (since I shared a room), crying behind some foliage, quite often.

I did take part in the teasing back but I never felt as good at "picking on" as much as my older siblings were. I would try to "get them back" when they got to me but I wasn't very talented at witty, mean banter. My heart just wasn't in it that viciously. I didn't enjoy getting my feelings hurt and, because of that, I just couldn't be that mean to the others, even when they might have deserved the return karma. Then, a younger sibling came along and I took advantage of my being older by taking some of my pain out on the newest member of the family in teasing form. I'm not proud of this factor by any means but it happened and to deny that I did so would be just as wrong. I'm still ashamed and sorrowful for my part in all the family goading. As the youngest got older, though, she got quicker and better at the banter than I did.

Bullies seem to have a knack at knowing who gets traumatized the most by teasing. They pick targets they know are easily hurt. I don't know how then know this but they are good victim seekers. So, while it may be my own perception of the incidences, I felt like I got the brunt of the bullying in my household. If you sought my siblings' opinions, they might think, feel and state otherwise (I'm nearly certain they would) but I can't account for their views of the experiences, only my own. From my perspective, the reason I feel this was the case is because one of my siblings caused the teasing to follow me to school.

This sibling I mention, whom I will not paint a bull's eye on by naming here, seemed to have such distain for my very existence. I can't necessarily blame this person as my father would regularly pit us against each other by proclaiming out loud in front of the others that I was his favorite. I often rolled my eyes when he'd declare this. I never believed him. I never understood the mixed message because, for a man who claimed I was his favorite, he'd sure go out of his way to make me insecure about my looks that his and my mother's genetics gave me.

I have to say that I'm not getting enjoyment out of revealing my own father's behavior in this light but we only have two parents and most knew my mom was a sweetheart, so it'd get figured out eventually. And, perhaps, it is time he be made publically aware of his actions and the chain reactions that his "amusement" caused.

The affliction of him playing favorites made my sister so angry that it scared me. I always felt like she wanted me dead. While sharing a bedroom as a child, I didn't sleep much because I was frightened I wouldn't wake up one morning. My sister cornered me on a quite few occasions, whether choking me, slamming my head against walls or suffocating me with a pillow. There's even a specific incident, so vivid to me, that it's too horrific to repeat because of its severity. I never even told my mom about it because I was afraid of the sibling rivalry consequences of "tattle-telling." I'm still so afraid that I have nothing to do with her to this day, all no thanks to our father.

As I understand it in reports from other kin, that she's angry because I see her as the "black sheep" of the family. I'm not about to apologize for that because I do see her in that light. This is not so much for her personal choices, but for the emotional pain she inflicted on me growing up. I saw her as an evil person. Truthfully, I still do. I think behaving meanly, especially intentionally (and, if you're doing it for amusement, that's intentional), is evil, period. I'll make no bones about that.

One birthday, what was supposed to be a kind gesture in the form of a party hosted by this sister, ended with an unkind version of the "Happy Birthday Song," that she started and encouraged which left me running down the street with my face in my hands, sobbing. There it was; the scarlet letter posted, welcoming the school bullies. This was in kindergarten, mind you. When I heard from our mother that she wanted to throw the party, I was uncertain then. Even at five going on six, I didn't trust this sister. I wondered what her angle was. I waited as she was planning. I waited as she set up the party that day. I waited during the arrivals and games. I just waited and, sure enough, what I expected happened, the teasing!

By the next school day, I was marked with a target. I remember the whispers, the laughing and the stares of amusement at my suffering. I hated going to school after that. Socializing in school is hard enough without having to be teased too. Bullying is even encouraged in P.E. You know that harmless game of "dodgeball"? The school yard bullies, both boys and girls, make that activity primetime to get targets. If only they knew that their jokes, teasing and gossip are more than enough torment. As far as getting educated, I wanted to get in, get the learning done and get out as fast as possible. I had a few friends who were kind, one best friend that I trusted implicitly but I was still miserable. That one best friend who got me through kindergarten wound up moving before the first grade which made things more difficult for me.

I told no one in my family this was going on because I didn't think they'd care (since it was going on at home and nothing was being done to stop it for good) and I knew my sister who started it would get a cheap, sick thrill out of knowing she got to me. I quietly cried myself to sleep regularly. I felt worthless. When people beat you down verbally long enough, you start to believe it. Then it gets so engrained that the personal hate becomes habitual; especially when that bad talk occurs in your home where you're supposed to feel safe.

In my home, my mother would try to come to our rescue, "Stop!" "Knock it off!" but then she'd follow it by telling the teased to ignore it and grow a thick skin. Neither, of which, help (since so many observers seem to say those phrases in order to avoid doing something) when the jokes go on with no end. Just letting it alone doesn't resolve a thing.

Perhaps I should have told my mother what was happening at school? Maybe she would have taken action at both home and school? At the time though, my mom was caregiver to my handicap able, mean father (whom had a stroke at 37 from cigarette smoking) and I didn't want to bother her with any more troubles than she was already bearing. Looking back, I never understood why she married him in the first place because he used to pick on her and bully her in front of us too. It wasn't violent, well, after the stroke, sometimes it was, but for the most part, it was just teasing. "Just teasing!" We use that expression so loosely, too, don't we? Like it's normal! Like it's okay! It's not!

It's not necessarily my dad's fault either. I think he may have been teased and bullied as a child too. Not that it's an excuse for his actions because he made the choice to continue the cycle as an adult towards his wife and kids. It's just obvious to me that it's a pattern, yet it's not obvious why it continues to be one. I apologize to my siblings for my part in us picking on each other, especially to the youngest.

As painful as it was, I was lucky enough to learn very early on the circumstances that come with popularity. It's sad and pathetic but the whole "popularity" thing starts in kindergarten. I wanted to be a part of that group so badly. I thought that, if I were a part of the "in" crowd, the teasing would stop. I was so wrong!

Socializing in school is a difficult challenge for anyone who is still learning about themselves. I wish I had been given a bit of guidance in that aspect early on. I wish I was told, "Popularity is superficial, don't be afraid to be yourself and doing, wearing what you want. Be comfortable in your own skin."

There's never really been a manual on how to survive socially in school; at least not before "Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide," anyways. There are so many things I wish I had warnings about prior to having suffered through them myself, especially when it came to fellow girls. I can't believe how vindictive and malicious girls can be these days and it seems like it starts earlier and earlier.

During the lower grades of elementary, I was hanging around the most kind, sweetest girls (the same nice ones from kindergarten) you could ever meet. I never intended on distancing myself from those girls but when the offer to become "popular" came along, I submitted to my fear of bullying and went along to avoid it at all costs, merely for self-preservation purposes.

One day in the third grade, I was invited into the "popular crowd." They appeared like nice girls at first. They went to church together. They couldn't be all bad, right?! They deceptively befriended me for three years. They used me to talk to the boys they liked because they noticed I was comfortable talking to boys. Not knowing that the reason I was so comfortable is that boys don't seem as psychologically catty as girls are; at least not to girls. I was very observant with these girls while I hung with them. At the time, I was impressed that I thought they were seeking spirituality. I only later realized they were just looking for extra chances to hang out and flirt with the boys. I was even realizing that I really didn't even truly like most of these girls. Not because of their looks or anything superficial but because they were so mean, even to each other. Most of them had such ugly attitudes! These girls, who acted like friends, would just as surely drop the other, if they heard they had a crush on the same boy. Yes, they were boy-crazy then! Now, I'm seeing it start earlier and earlier, but that's a subject for another day.

I won't be naming the negative individuals; again, no targets. I have, however, chosen to mention the names of certain individuals who were kind because of the fact that they deserve credit for their compassion and, I feel, that's the least I can do to make up for the way I unintentionally mistreated and disregarded the gifts of humanity they had shown me.

About a year and a half into the "friendships," I was invited with them to Awanas; a church, elementary school-age gathering where we played games and memorized the Bible in group form to gain pins and badges for our vests. I took it so seriously. I wasn't just there to have an extra "hang out" session with my school friends, like my other classmates were. I was really enveloped in the teachings and eager to learn more. I looked forward to the Biblical education from week to week. I don't know why I keep them but I still have my "Awanas Olympics" Award, among badges and pins, to prove it. A few months into these "friends" taking me with them, my parents started going to the church.

From fifth to sixth grade, we graduated from Awanas to Youth Group; junior high age ranged Bible study. That summer after the fifth grade, we were scheduled to go to a week of church camp. We had done church youth fundraisers all year for the camping trip. Money was tight for my parents at the time it came to pay for camp tickets. It wasn't that we were so low on income that they couldn't pay. It was that my folks had more important finances that the money needed to go towards and my mom explained it to me in that way and I understood, so as far as I knew, I wasn't going.

A few short weeks later, I was "anonymously" donated a ticket to the church camp. I had no clue as to who paid my way. I figured it was the fundraisers. I was helping at every one of them. I was hesitant to accept the donation. I wasn't really concerned with going. I was oblivious to the torment that was to come from that free ticket at the time. I remember having a blast at the camp.

Nearly two thirds of the way through the sixth grade, I'm at a Wednesday night youth group. I don't remember the topic but I remember I was in the front row, like I always was, really listening to the youth leader. Somewhere in the middle of it, I remember hearing whispers over my shoulder; whispers that included my name. Those same kinds of whispers I once saw on the kindergarten playground. When I turned my head to look, there were clusters of classmates who all of the sudden stood in attention, like they were caught. The same cupping of the mouths as they lean into each other's ears I saw six years prior. I knew something was going on but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. We took a break and one of the girls, who wasn't a schoolmate, came up to me in the restroom and mentioned that everyone was talking about me. I asked what about and she said she couldn't quite make out what they we saying, but it didn't sound good. I remember not wanting to come out of the bathroom. I wanted to crawl under a rock.

I asked a leader if I could use the phone to call my mom. My dad answered the phone. Crying, I asked him if mom could come get me and he said she was already on her way. I hadn't realized it was already that late. He kept asking me what was wrong and I said nothing. I didn't want to tell him what was going on. After all, he was the catalyst to begin with.

I waited outside the church for my mom. One of the adults, I don't remember who, came up and asked if I was okay. I told the person I wasn't feeling well. It was another moment that seemed like forever. The other students started filing out. I went to the edge of the parking lot. My mom finally arrived; which was also the time it occurred to me we carpooled, which meant we had to carry some of those people who were gossiping home with us.

I got in the front seat and locked the door a moment and begged my mom for us to take Ryan (another classmate, whom I knew wasn't a part of the gossip crowd) home and that was it. She asked why and I said nothing. She said no, we were taking them home too. Ryan got in, then the two rude girls. . . I felt like I was turning red. I wanted to burst into tears but didn't want to give them the satisfaction. It was awkward the whole way home. I remember saying good bye to Ryan when we dropped him off. After yet more mere moments that seemed like an eternity, we got home. My mom tried to pry what was wrong out of me, but I didn't want to speak.

I faked sick the next 2 days of school. I remember my true friend, Sarah, one whom I had abandoned for the imaginary acceptance, calling me to see how I was. I still wasn't ready to talk. I managed to wrestle up the courage to go to school after the weekend in my room was over. I had walked that same route every day since my mom first took me in kindergarten but somehow the journey seemed like a war zone that day. I was very fearful as I was approaching. I wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground that morning. But they all acted like nothing happened. I still felt strange; like I knew they were pretending. For days, this went on and I kept to myself.

Wednesday night, Youth Group Night came, I didn't go. The next night, I had gotten a call from the youth pastor. He was concerned as to why his studious student hadn't showed up. I assumed he had got wind of it by then. I told him why and said I wouldn't be going any more. He told me to give him the next Wednesday to talk to the class and then reconsider. I asked him not to because I knew that would only make it worse. He insisted he had to talk with them. I told him that, regardless, I didn't want to go back to that church. I tried other churches here and there after that incident too, but I never felt comfortable at any church since.

The next week came and it was the Thursday after the "sermon" Youth Group lesson. I was not looking forward to the repercussions of the lecture. I finally made it through the morning session then first recess came. I felt so alone. Everyone was pointing and whispering. A boy I had known for longer than the others had his first night at Youth Group that prior night. This was a boy I had spent my preschool days with, had the gull to mention, in a teasing fashion, something about my family being so poor that my church camp ticket was charity.

Forget that the donation was supposed to be anonymous, they were mocking me for something that I didn't necessarily have control over. These fake friends, these fake Christian followers, were shunning me for my family not living on "the right side of the tracks," even though we lived on the side where the school was located. It was like a bad, elementary school version of Pretty in Pink, only set in church, with no prom or hot boyfriend. It wasn't even for something bad I did or a poor behavior I portrayed. Some of these girls lived in my neighborhood and I knew their parents didn't make any more money than mine did. I didn't and still don't understand how they could be so hypocritical. How could these kids go to church and listen to the sermon and then walk out gossiping about such a trivial thing that had no relevance to who I was as a person?

At lunch, I started to sit down at the table I usually sat at when they confronted me and finally shunned me face to face. It hurt and I was humiliated in front of the entire fourth through sixth grades, but I took it.

What made me feel worse was the guilt I felt when those kind girls, I mentioned earlier, accepted me back right there and then, without conditions, even when I deserted them. I was so humbled by their generosity when they didn't have to be. I'm still grateful, to this very day, for those gracious true friends, Sarah, Shannon, Melanie, Ngoc and Martha, the ones I left in order to be "popular." They accepted me back, like I had never left. I had always been nice to them, even during the "faux popularity stage," but I had abandoned them none the less and they could have chosen to be less than welcoming. I felt so guilty for neglecting the gift of genuine friendship they bestowed onto me. All because I was so afraid to be myself (because I was encouraged to hate myself) that I hid behind a facade. I knew who to give my loyalties to after that experience. I am so sorry for leaving you girls behind and you are all gifts to this life we all share!

I tried to blend into my surroundings for most of the rest of the year, like wearing camouflage in a forest. There were only a few short months left of school but it seemed like a lifetime in my eyes.

Seventh grade was a little better, mainly because of a redistricting for junior high that year. Those fabulous friends stayed with me at the next school level, while the former "in" crowd was separated by the reshuffling. That was probably a good thing too. I did see a few of those girls on occasion around the junior high campus. They looked scared to death about this new adventure, especially with not having the "others" in their wolf pack. The ones who were at our school didn't even appear to be friends with each other anymore. I guess they learned a lesson, but who knows? Old habits die hard! I took the adjustment just fine. For the first time, I was actually beginning to enjoy school socially again.

My family moved out of the area before I started the eighth grade. While I missed my good friends and enjoyed the prior year, I was relieved to start somewhere new but the truth is, that's just an excuse to run away. I didn't face those metaphorical scars that were left behind. On that first day of school where we made our new home, I pinpointed who the popular crowd was before the first bell and made every effort the rest of the year to avoid them at all costs.

As I report all this to you now, I'm shaking inside as if it happened just yesterday. I'm just about thirty-two and I'm feeling nauseas over revealing this embarrassing story. I'm an adult and I'm still nervous about impressions on others, ridiculous, I know.

After that those events, especially the sixth grade one, I gained a fear of making friends. I still have that fear to a point. I was picky about friends later on and ever since. Not out of arrogance, but to protect myself from mean girls. For years, I had a hard time letting people into my life. It took me days just to get up the courage to talk to someone new. I didn't give my trust easily and I was always looking over my shoulder, waiting to get hurt. I didn't enjoy and still don't enjoy being with large groups of people like at a party. I never liked hearing gossip, especially the mean kind. It was clear that I still had a bit to learn about making it through the school years and in life. The problem with the choice of avoiding making friends is it may have made me lose out on the chance of getting to know those who may have been some pretty great people. There's nothing wrong with being picky about giving your friendship to people. Just make sure it's done to find good, kind, positive friends, not over a fear of getting hurt.

You want to know the truth about the high school memories that you carry with you later on in life? Here they are; you remember the majority of the popular crowd as rude bullies more than anything. You never remember specifically why they were popular you just know they were. You may not even remember most of them by their names. (Unless they were your tormentor) You know who you do remember? You remember the ones who stood out, the ones who were different and weren't afraid to show it. You remember that those ones called "geeks" and "nerds" were some of the smartest and nicest people you could ever meet. You remember the ones who made an impact on your life in a good way and those are the people, the different folks, who are the truly cool ones. The people you remember from high school are the ones who carried themselves with confidence and didn't care about what others thought, or at least didn't show that they cared. They were nice with and accepting of everyone. Those with the confidence and self-assurance are the ones who have more full lives as adults as well.

Here's the big secret: The "popular" high schoolers all behave the same. They're less comfortable in their skin than anyone else on campus and are the most transparent in showing it. They're followers; they follow each other, act alike and are afraid to like different things from each other. They hide behind their false popularity and false sense of self, a mask. This is where the terms, "sheep" or "sheep-le" used for them, came from, because they follow and don't seem to have a mind of their own. They are typically mean to outsiders in order to feel more powerful and more secure when they are actually threatened by those who truly are comfortable and confident with themselves. What else are they remembered for? They're remembered for behaving as the jerk jocks and (I'm just going to say it) slutty, mean girls whom hardly ever make a real name for themselves in the future. Often times, those girls who are popularly friends with each other aren't even true friends to each other. If one found out something about another that was embarrassing, they would exploit it just to gain "popularity points," bruising someone who thought they were a friend. Most of the really cruel-in-school ones, for the most part, stay in those small towns, watch TMZ and throw their life away in fear more than anyone else. I've even heard from my oddball, cool friends whom are still in my "hometown" that those "popular" ones still behave the same way as adults and encourage their kids to behave the same! (Disturbing, isn't it? That this behavior is allowed to spore and procreate?) High school is the prime time of their, (the sheep's) lives and, in a well-rounded life, high school should not be your high point.

To those mean girls and mean girls everywhere; WAKE UP! If you're offended by these general "mean girl" statements I've made, you were likely that bully and it's likely because you were bullied at one point. I'm so sorry that happened to you. However, I make no apologies for you seeing yourself in this telling. Perhaps you should consider righting those wrongs to fix the poor karma you are feeling at this moment.

In the dictionary, this interpretation of "popularity" is "the state of being commonly liked or accepted." It's funny that this definition uses the word "commonly." The same, which is part of my definition of the word, only mine explains what I see happening with this word in its current relativity. You know what the "school" or "infamous" version of "popularity" means? It means a group of people who are so afraid of being different, they're so afraid to be themselves and of living life that they hide behind the mask of each other in order to avoid confrontation; in order to avoid facing their personal hate and fears. They'll "clone" each other so they don't stand out, so they can be "common."

The problem with being common, though, you risk leading a boring life, you're normal. You never do the things you want in life because you're so concerned about what the other normal, boring, lifeless, sheep-le think. And why should you care about what those fearful followers think? How often do those people hop out of their box 'o' fear? I know that it's hardly ever because, if more of them did, this world would be a much more creative, lively, happy and more positive place to be for everyone on Earth. I know this because I was one of them before I became aware.

As you get older, you realize how small of a portion of your life school is but, sometimes, you let those school impressions strengthen your fears to the point where they paralyze all of the goals you want to achieve. Then, you look back on your life (the case of the should a, could a, would a's), wondering where it all went? You get upset about all of the things you missed out on because you were stupidly scared. You think back to high school and realize, what was the big deal? It was only a big deal because you made it a big deal. You wasted all that precious time you were given in this universe on being afraid of the life you were given to live. You were given life to live it, so honor that gift!

So many adults become aware of and wonder why they care or cared about what others think. I still beat myself up over this; the things I missed out on because of worrying about others I don't necessarily have a personal connection with. I missed out on learning to play the banjo (weirdo), learning to play the lever harp. I missed getting to see a sci-fi or comic-con convention (geek), playing billiards. I didn't join the swim team though I wanted to, because I was afraid of being called a "fat ass," and much more. It's so silly to miss out on what you want to do in life because of insecurities. I was afraid to be myself because I didn't want to be made fun of for my likes, when I was already being made fun of over my looks! And this behavior seems worse amongst females than males. I've seen male bullies watch what female bullies do and say, "Woaw! That's harsh!" And when males take part in bullying a female, I notice it's usually by the coaxing of other mean girls. As most know, when a high school boy wants to get into a girl's pants--uh, I mean, heart (uh-hm), some of them will do whatever it takes, even if it means scarring another girl for life. The other secret they don't want you to know; it's usually that odd girl that they've scarred for life that they truly want to get to know, but they also know that shy girl will never let them "in," so, they save you for when they're older, more mature and ready to settle down.

Which brings to question, ladies; what is it that makes women and girls so nasty with each other? Here we are, in the 21^st century; where women can vote, work and raise kids at the same time and have a large presence in business and all aspects of the current world, yet school girls, and even many grown women, still use female psychological warfare to tear each other down. Why are some of you so insecure that you have to emotionally and verbally beat the personality out of everyone around you? I never understood it in school and I still don't, now. It's why many of my friends in school were male; I'd much rather take on a fist fight with a guy than the mental play girls engage in.

Do you ever sometimes put popularity and bullying together? I do; not intentionally but intuitively. My bully sister was popular and not for particularly good reasons. I never got why so many mean people were popular. I never thought of them as cool; jerks, yes, but never cool. That kind of behavior is psychotic, if you ask me. So, why is it rewarded? It seems like society allows people to behave so nastily. To put it bluntly, by not stopping it, we allow it to occur. It's because we ignore it, thinking it will go away, that meanness continues. It's long past due that we let these mean individuals know it's not going to be tolerated anymore. Let's start pointing these bullies out and call them on their behavior but in a positive, kind fashion. Let's see what we can do to fix these souls and help them, teach them to be kind. It's time to confront it and stand up. If you see a student being picked on and bullied, don't be a by-standard. Step in and help the individual, especially if it's female warfare. It shocks me how many girls know it's wrong when they watch it happening but they don't take action to stop the behavior. It sickens me that I watched and never did anything. If you're the one it's happening to, you'll never overcome it unless you take that power back; stand up for yourself even if it means you land yourself in the principal's office. Ask for a parent to be called in and verbally defend your words and actions when explaining. Make the principal aware of these under age female bullies, whom, in my personal opinion, are the worst offenders.

My biggest regret is that I didn't stand up to this bullying when I had numerous chances to do so. It's true, that saying, "If you're not a part of the solution, you're part of the problem." After what was done to me, you'd think I would say something for someone else, but no. I would watch the bullying happen to others in school and not say a word because I was afraid of the retaliation that might have been aimed in my direction. Isn't that just stupid? I would watch as others would observe the bullying with such disgust, even some of the students who were a part of the "in" crowd, and all's they had to do was intervene but their fear stopped them, just as mine stopped me. "The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing." Albert Einstein was so right, but no one listened. I was just as wrong as the participators because I didn't take action to stop the bullying I had watched. I probably would have gained some confidence back if I had stood up, too.

Clearly, like so many of you, I'm just another "work in progress," but at least I'm starting and I'm asking my audience to face your fears and start this journey for some positive changes with me! Here 

I go:

As an individual, as someone different or uncommon, I'm coming out! HI! I'm Cristina, with a "C" and no "h." I like to be called, "Crissy" by my close friends. I have a long brown hair that I love, even though I get seasonal dandruff here and there. I saw my first gray hair at twenty-six and went into denial. A few years later, I noticed natural tones in highlights that I thought were beautiful and then I realized why those highlights were appearing. . . Yah, I'm not so impressed by it anymore. Thank goodness for Clairol and L'Oreal! I've got crow's feet but, oh well! I have brown eyes that I didn't use to like but I love now. I like to think Van Morrison's song; "Brown Eyed Girl" is about me. Tee hee! I've got astigmatism that left me with glasses but I think I look kinda' cute with them on! I'm not so tall but I accept my "petite-ness," it makes me adorable! I have a chubby face but I'm okay with that. I have an hourglass figure that seems bigger in my own imagination than in the mirror. I fight with excess weight but I continue to work on it for my own health and no one else. While I know I'd like to be a healthy, fit weight, I like my curves! My face has genetic acne that was aggravated by a deathly case of chicken pox (that left me with scars) when I was six months old. I've felt like I've been dealing with it my whole life. My dad had me believing I wasn't pretty because of this acne. I have a bad habit of picking that I'm working on changing, as well as a bad habit of calling it "my acne" because I've dealt with it for so long. I have a not so small, Italian nose and thin lips. I like my smile! When I look in the mirror after getting ready to go somewhere, I shrug at myself, thinking, "I guess this looks good enough." But, besides the acne, when I look in the mirror, I do see the "pretty" in me!

I'm SO clutsy! In fact, I make clumsiness look like an art form. My falls and bumps are epic, but you can't teach my talents in school! Yup! I've walked into corners and doorways. I've walked straight into poles. I once smacked my face into a mailbox when running around the yard, playing with a dog. I've stubbed my toes into dressers. I even broke the entire outer corner of my left foot when I smacked those toes into a heavy box. I've twisted my ankles (often in the same place, meaning the location of the object that caused the twisting, over and over). I've tripped over sidewalks. I've even been known to trip over thin air, which is why I think there are such things as invisibility, teleportation and force fields. I've gotten soap in the eye and bloody noses. I've shoved hot pepper and onion saturated fingers into my eyes without a second thought. I really think DNA tests should be done because I'm convinced clumsiness is a genetic trait. Either that or, I'm so in tune with the universe, metabolically, that my molecular structure changes so regularly to where my body can't keep up with the rebalancing. I think that's a good theory!

I'm a wife and mother and proud to be so. I'm not a perfect mother, there's no such thing, but I do care about being a good mother. I take the responsibility of raising a child very seriously. I do the best I know how to raise my child to be a fully functional, well adjusted, intelligent, independent and, hopefully, fearless human being who cares for the world just as much as he cares for himself. I'm often so concerned with how to raise my child that I prioritize it over taking care of myself. I'm working on balance, though! I don't appreciate it when mothers knock each other verbally because they're stay-at-home or working moms, nor because they're single parents. Those issues have nothing to do as to whether or not they're good parents or good, contributing people.

I'm learning that I still have a lot to learn about life. We wouldn't be here if we were done. I'm learning that nothing is absolute. I'm learning that there's no such thing as "good" or "bad" people, we're just people. It's about making good or bad choices. I don't think it has anything to do with the choices themselves being good or bad. I think it has to do with making an educated decision, but it's not all black and white. There are gray areas where feeling good comes into play. I'm learning to face my fears. I've learned that fear is a good thing. It reminds us we're alive. Here's my suggestion: Don't submit to the fear and let it paralyze your accomplishments. Accept the fear and use it as energy to fuel your goals and let the adrenaline it gives you to move through the scary thing, whatever that "thing" may be! I've noticed that the more I use fear to accomplish any tasks, the more of a positive impact I make on the world around me.

Here's to all of those I never let get to know me! You can call me Crissy! You already know that I appreciate kindness, that I'm sick of seeing bullying and that I'm not fond of mean, catty females. Here's what you may not know: My favorite flowers are tulips. My favorite math is multiplication. I like playing games, especially board games and mind training games. I like Sudoku and magic squares. I like Scrabble. I like looking at the stars. I like butterflies and ladybugs. I like elephants and manatees. I like the smell of newborn babies! I like to sleep but have difficulties getting a full night's sleep. I've been known to take an occasional two hour nap, midday. I like organization but I have to force myself to get the organizing done.

I like to think, philosophically. I like to listen but I also like to talk, if you'll let me! If you like healthy debates, I'll challenge you, but I have strong opinions too and I no longer feel I should hide them because that's me! *wink* I am aware. I think everyone should question authority, but be kind and respectful about it. I believe laws are put in place so people are free to explore life without harming each other while doing so. I think myths are to history what theories are to science.

I'm an artist; I love to express my creativity in any way possible. I keep plenty of sketchbooks all over the house, in case I get inspired that I both draw and make notes in. I don't always share what I write or draw in these books to others, unless we create a close enough bond. I like any kind of art but I like to draw illustrations and drawing cartoons the most. I love to learn about art history and techniques. I use Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain and How to Think Like a Da Vinci as reference books. I admire any artists, from Da Vinci to Van Gogh, from Michelangelo to Rembrandt, as well as, Warhol and Dali. I have the most respect for abstract art because I find this artistic genre a challenge for me. I like to collect stones, which was the start of my jewelry designing. I'm like a kid in a candy store when I visit a JoAnn's, Michael's, Hobby Lobby, Aaron Bros., it doesn't matter. I like theater, both as a patron and member. I like working backstage. I did so in high school and, some classmates may have noticed, in the "green room" was when I was most "me." I worked in the entertainment industry for a little while as a make-up artist, particularly make-up FX. I enjoyed watching what everyone did on set, how movies and shows are made. It's a beautiful, artistic effort collaborated by a community of people who have creative passions towards a common goal. I've always wanted to see The Pageant of the Masters Art Festival in Laguna Beach over the summer but never got around to it. I'd love to be involved in the creation of it one year!

I love holidays, any holiday! I love any opportunity to celebrate happiness, amusement, fun and joy! After all, who doesn't like doing things that make you feel merry and good!? Giving makes you feel good. Being thankful makes you feel good. Dressing up makes you laugh and have a good time. What's not fun about getting messy and creative when carving pumpkins!? Tasty big meals make you happy! Parties and BBQ's are always a blast! Fireworks are joyful, what's not to like? I totally think we should bring regular scheduled block parties back! Love thy neighbors, I say!

I like words! My favorite word is "imagination." Though I have used it when necessary, even in this article, "stupid" is my least favorite word and I think of it as a swear word, especially when used at someone. I like looking through the dictionary and doing research to find original meanings of words. I think people put more feeling behind some words that are said than the person who speaks them intends. This is what gets so many of us into trouble. I think more people should study vocabulary and make sure they are more careful about choosing the words they use. And I think listeners should think about what the speaker is trying to say on the whole as opposed to focusing on a specific word they've chosen to use. I love to write, I own a rhyming dictionary. I'm a grammar, vocabulary and spelling stickler; I even get hard on myself when I make those editing errors or when I'm uncertain on the form of a sentence. But, on the whole, I think it's just best to put your personality into your writing!

I'm a kid at heart! I like visiting the Lego Store just as much as my kid! I'm a Jim Henson fan and always will be! My favorite childhood film was and still is Explorers. I love taking my child to see Pixar Films! I've been known to cry at a few of them. When I was single adult, I'd still go to the theater to see a "kiddie" movie I was interested in. I was stoked to go to the theater to see the Rugrats Movie! I still like using coloring books and a good children's book! I'm a big Dr. Seuss fan and I like the Serendipity books too!

My favorite vegetables are lima beans. I don't like food with weird textures, including softened fruit like in pies or jams. No pulp allowed in my juices or jellies, yuck, but I still eat apple sauce! I' not a fan of cottage cheese, again, a texture thing. I love tiramisu. I like eating at the Cheesecake Factory, especially if the meal ends with a piece of Godiva Chocolate Cheesecake! I think beer tastes the way pee smells. I love a good mixed Grey Goose filthy dirty martini on occasion. I enjoy an occasional Cherry Coke. I enjoy both tea and coffee, but I enjoy those holiday flavored coffees during the Christmas season. I didn't try Asian food until I was nineteen and, gosh, I missed out for many years! My husband introduced me to steamed artichokes and now I can't get enough of them.

I like to dance and sing but I prefer to do so when I'm alone. I like swing and ballroom dancing especially but I'm out of practice because I don't have a dancing partner and my husband doesn't know how. Although, as afraid as I am to sing in front of people, I think I have a pretty good voice! Oh, I do voices! YES! I'm shy about it but I do a pretty mean Cookie Monster! I do Grover, Yoda, Miss Piggy, The Swedish Chef, Mickey or Minnie, Gingie from Shrek, Pee Wee, Sandie Cheeks, Chipmunks, Angelica Pickles, Chewbacca, P &F's Baljeed and (shhh!) *whispering* Doofensmirtz! I used to do Michael J. Fox as Marty McFly, but that's been a while. I try Christopher Walken but I haven't mastered that one yet. I can do the voice of a mean old German school marme and a female Russian spy! I get so nervous to share this ability, particularly because many of the voices are male and I like to be "girlie." I quiver when I use silly voices to read a children's book. I really wish I hadn't been so chicken to do something with this knack though because my kid loves it! He gets a kick out of me reading, There's a Monster in This Book (It stars Sesame Street's Grover.) to him. I've had librarians sit down in front of me when I've volunteered for story time then ask me when I'm going to return.

I enjoy sci-fi; Star Trek, Star Wars, Stargate, Dr. Who and everything in between! I like Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter and any fantasy fun! Like those in the Phineas and Ferb tri-state area, I'm a "Specki" and "Finki"! *wink* Yup, I still enjoy cartoons, even at my current age! I like romances, just like any girl! I enjoy Love Actually, PS I Love You, and 50 First Dates. I enjoy comedies like Eurotrip and Sex Drive. I like John Hughes, Mel Brooks and Jon Favreau. I had a crush on Ghostbuster's Egon Spangler as a girl and I'm still attracted to Harold Ramos' genius comedic mind as an adult! I LOVE cheesy B-movies, especially starring Bruce Campbell. I enjoy movies that are so bad, they're good. I enjoy history and science shows. I like the show, Scrubs, even in re-runs and I'm convinced there's a little J.D. in all of us! I still love The Cosby Show! I enjoyed TGIF and SNICK as when I was younger. I like documentaries. I'll watch a Zombie movie over Friday the 13^th any night! I have been known to watch an episode or two of Beavis and Butthead. I'll go with family and friends, but I like going to see a movie in theater alone. I still don't get men's fascination with Mad Max and Outlaw Josey Whales but I'll enjoy a good John Wayne film with the fellas! I don't get why Casablanca and The Graduate are classics but I love An Affair to Remember and Breakfast at Tiffany's. I'll watch any movie with Christopher Walken in it; Joseph Gordon Lovitt, Mark Wahlburg, Orlando Bloom, Oliver Platt, Alfred Molina, Vince Vaughn, Don Cheadle, Jack Black, Stanley Tucci, Jason Stathom, Reese Whitherspoon, Emma Thompson, Madeline Cahn, among others who are enjoyable actors to watch. Though some of these talents may be on it, I WON'T reveal my "highlight reel" here; that's for me and close, close friends (who'll reveal theirs in return) alone!

I like a good book, including self-motivation ones like A New Earth and The Secret. I'll take Count Dracula over Twilight any day! But, if you enjoy Twilight, I won't hold that against you! I like Arabian Nights: A Night and A Thousand Nights. I could never get into Great Expectations or The Great Gatsby but I'd LOVE to go to a Great Gatsby Party! I do enjoy Anne of Green Gables and The Last of the Mohicans (but that movie interpretation was BAD). I like Mary Shelly and Jane Austin. Yes, I'm a Nancy Drew and Judy Blume girl! I enjoyed the Boxcar Children and those books that had a plethora of endings, depending on which you chose, though the name of that series escapes me now.

I appreciate most music, especially standards and classics. I enjoy the Rat Pack. I like movie scores. I like gypsy music and good guitarists. My favorite musical sound is the harp. I wasn't much of a NKOTB fan, but I loved when N'Sync came on the scene! I love 80's music and classic rock, especially Journey and Bryan Adams. I enjoy Third Eye Blind, Cold Play, The Fray, Plain White T's, The Smiths, Adele and Duffy. I don't get the Bieber craze, and the "Bieber-do" should have been named "The Effron Cut" because Zack did it long before Justin did and made it look just as good, if not better. But if you like Justin, to each his own! That doesn't mean we can't get along!

I like to watch figure skating; I wish I had tried it as a youngster. I'm not an avid football watcher, unless the Steelers are in the playoffs. I like going to major league baseball games. I like watching hockey, boxing and poker tournaments. I use to play basketball as a kid and was not too bad, for a girl but I don't watch it that often. I was a pretty good runner until my female figure started kicking in! I'm a GREAT swimmer, especially the butterfly stroke, and I enjoy it quite a bit! I like Indy and Formula 1 over Nascar, but I'll watch Nascar too. I like the outdoors; I like hiking and fishing, but for someone else (I don't eat fish). The weather has to be "just right" for me to go camping. I like the beach but I think it stinks that it's "environmentally unfriendly" to collect seashells any more, yet it's okay to bag them up and sell them on store shelves!

I laugh and love it when I get scared or spooked, whether by a movie or in a haunted house. I enjoy a good horror film, but I prefer realistic thrillers. The Hand the Rocks the Cradle and Single White Female scares the bejesus out of me before any I Know What You Did Last Summer or Scream film ever will. I admired the simplicity in production of Paranormal Activity, but I didn't fall for it. I have a phobia over sharks, I don't ever care to be near one nor do I like shark movies. No "Shark Week" for me, no thanks!

I started exploring faith, spirituality, religion, at the very young age of five. I spent a lot of time and effort on the subject (and still do), giving the topic its due diligence in research, taking in my own experiences of it. I don't take any one person's or one book's theories on the subject to heart. I've since come to the conclusion that I'm open to all things. But, I do use my brain and think about things logically and scientifically. I'm open to ideas as opposed to strong beliefs. I don't necessarily have faith in anything particular, but I do have faith. I think ascension is likely possible (and if it is likely, then retaking human form would be possible as well) and I think there is intelligent design to this universe but I also think evolution plays into it, although I think it's more often mistaken for "adaptation." I have an idea that there may be a "Supreme Being" that has made all life everywhere in our universe but I don't necessarily think he, she or it can be everywhere at once, unless "it" is energy, which I also think makes sense, as it goes in, through and out of form and is forever lasting. I think the idea of an "ethereal" heaven sounds nice and, though I'm not perfect, I think I'm a good, kind enough person to have earned a place there, if it does exist and I would look forward to meeting the "Supreme Being," if this idea is an individual that is stationed there. But! I'm not going to pretend like what I've read in the Bible is it when I don't know for certain. If "God" does exist in physical form and he, she, it does know and see everything, why would I fake him out by pretending like I know everything for certain? He would know better and I would only be lying to myself.

I think church is dangerous; it sounds nice in theory. I love to see and admire the many beautiful architectural buildings these traditions are played out in, with their beautiful stained glass windows, domes and minarets. When I did go, I enjoyed the rejoicing music, I enjoyed the lovely sermons certain pastors would give, and I enjoyed the peaceful, pleasant feeling in the atmosphere. As individuals, the majority of the parishioners are nice and good intentioned, but when I see these people put together in a room to listen to a pastor preach about positive things, then watch them gossip with each other, unkindly about each other before hitting the parking lot curb, it defeats the purpose of congregating.

I like to find out root meanings of spiritual or religious related words because I think today's Bibles are very misinterpreted. I refuse to conform to putting spiritual and historical references in a "box" that can't be deviated, much the way those who have put these Bibles together did. I think that's what has made spirituality and religion such a hot button, dangerous topic to discuss.

I also think there's nothing wrong with what and how others choose to believe, so long as their beliefs aren't used to conduct evil. If you believe in a religion that helps you in life and makes you a better human being for it, I'm happy for you and support your choice to do so, even if you want to believe in the "Flying Spaghetti Monster" (hey, that would be pretty cool, from an imagination standpoint)! You will not be judged by me for any of it. However, if you are going to judge my choice in beliefs and choose to debate me in order to convert me, I will take that as permission for the opportunity to educate you. Hey, that's just who I am! And still, if, during the healthy conversation, you've given me, a good, logical, educational point to think about, I'll praise you for it!

I think there are beings from other worlds. I don't understand how people can deny that when we're the new kids in this universe by billions of years. I do think there is a possibility of ghosts as well, despite the fact that I've never seen proof of either. Nevertheless, there is lots of evidence out there to both scenarios. I do think that multi-verses are possible. I think time travel is possible (and it would be awesome to use a Delorean to get there). And . . . if ALL of this labels me a "geek," then so be it! It makes me different and stand-out and I don't want to be normal anymore! I'm an individual and I'm working on accepting me! Day by day, I'm going to love myself more and more!

And you should love yourself too!

Even now, I'm nervous about sharing this story. I'm embarrassed by the accounts. I'm afraid of what others might think (even when I know I shouldn't be concerned with that). I'm afraid of the retaliation I may get from certain individuals. I'm afraid I may be made to cry in the fallout that may come from this revelation. But, if I let those fears stop me, I will have accomplished nothing, I'll still be in hiding and I won't emotionally heal. However, if telling my story helps even one victim (maybe even save a life), letting it out will be worth it.

The person who creates the victim is the victim, him or herself. When you see yourself as a victim, you're hurting yourself and often take it out on others in the process. Those insecurities are only in your head. If you turn the table and learn to be the hero that you want to see, that target you put on your back, falls right off. So, stand up! Say something! Take back that power that was once yours! Even if it's not you, don't stand by and watch it happen to someone else. Step in and take action! Let's change and make this world a better place; a kinder, positive place.

Compassion and appreciation go a long way in life. Be kind and try getting to know everyone (like many fellow students) possible; network. You might be pleasantly surprised by what you find out about another student that you might not have given a chance before. Engage friendship like you really want to know what other people want out of life. This may enlighten you in a way you never knew existed. Don't feel like you have to do what others your age are doing. Don't give in to the peer pressure. If you are the perpetuator, don't encourage someone else to behave like you. The beauty of this life is that we're all unique. When you coheres someone into doing the same as you or doing something with you that they don't want to do, you are robbing them of their individuality.

Quit being someone else and be who you are! Quit encouraging others to be like you and accept others for who they are! Take responsibility for your own life and hold yourself accountable for the way you treat others. Do what you want in life. See what you want to see. "Be the change you want to see," like Jonah Mowry, who started an incredible movement by simply showing his true form. That empowering change in him changed others, including me. I truly believe that, if we teach and encourage our kids to like themselves and be kind to each other more, the statistics for teen alcohol use, teen drug use, teen sex and teen pregnancy would all go down dramatically.