BOY OR GIRL
I remember the first time it happened as though it was yesterday. It was in fact more than 30 years ago right before I turned 12 but the memory lingers in my mind. I still don't understand it or totally comprehend it to this day. How was I being mistaken as a girl instead of a boy? All I could think was why were people thinking I was a girl. Was it my longer hair? All I could think was this is the 70's - everyone has long hair. I mean, take a minute and look around to see all the guys with their unkept hair pulled back in pony tails, others with hair flowing down to their behind, and some with extreme sideburns and facial hair. I was very tall, thin, and scrawny so maybe it was my physical appearance? I wasn't an athletic fellow so I wasn't as muscularly developed as some of the other males my age. I never thought it was enough to look at my frame and think I was a girl. I remember one time being with my Father at the hardware store he managed. One of his regular customers made a comment to him "Oh, so this is your daughter". I could see the embarrassment and the shame on his face. He gently corrected them but when he returned home I had to listen to him scream at my Mother to take me to get my hair cut so that people will know I am a boy.
Soon after this, I entered sixth grade and that was the beginning of the end for me. I remember several friends I had gone to school with from kindergarten through fifth grade. Once school started that year all my former friends began treating and viewing me as the outcast. Any friend I may have had or thought I had simply vanished from my existence. From this point on, I was the joke. I was the one that everyone made fun of on a daily basis. While fellow students were having crushes on other boys and girls, I had to somehow conjure up whatever I had inside me to make it through the school day. I was teased, laughed at, and humiliated daily. This escalated into being called gay, fag, homo, and any other homosexual term anyone could think to call me on a daily basis. I remember praying to God that when I began seventh grade this would all stop since I would be going to junior high school. I knew the same kids I went to elementary school with would be there, however, we would have new students there from other schools also. I remember feeling a little at ease initially and maybe this will be okay. Not too much time passed and I was enduring the same pain and torture on a daily basis. I had to try to say to myself that they don't know me. I kept all of this hidden from my family. I didn't want them to know I was enduring such pain and humiliation at school. I figured my Father would blame me for all of it so I didn't want to even address the problem. My Mother was struggling with being diagnosed with cancer and undergoing chemotherapy so I didn't want to trouble her either. I did meet one person in junior high who remained my friend throughout the rest of my school years. Unfortunately he was teased and bullied as well so I think we bonded somewhat over our tortured existence at school.
When I entered high school is when things escalated into more of a physical nature. I had, of course continued to endure the verbal torment - the name calling and hearing I was a faggot daily. Now I had to deal with being spit on in class. I had to watch my every move in between classes or on the school grounds as I would be physically assaulted or have to dodge things being thrown at me. Although I went to several teachers and counselors, it seemed as if none of them were there to help me. I remember one time when of the punks would sit and make fun of me right in front of one of my teachers. She did nothing. She just let the abuse continue. All I could think was couldn't someone in the public school system help me? There were so many suicidal thoughts during these years. I read once that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. This passage helped me to realize I didn't want to kill myself. I just wanted the pain and suffering to end so I could live my life. However, I realized I was on my own and so I somehow made it through the rest of my high school years with most of my sanity intact.
Today, I still have all the emotional scars to show for the trauma of my youth. All of the torment and abuse has made me very shy and quiet. I long to be the fun, loud, and outgoing personality that I only exhibit to those that I am extremely close. I wish there was some way to instill in young people today the results and aftermath of the teasing and bullying they do to others. The damage that can be done to them can last a lifetime. With all of this, I feel I have the last revenge as all of the naysayers have given me the best writing material I could ever ask for. With that, I say thank you to all the miserable people who tried to break my spirit. To think this all started with someone confusing me as a girl instead of a boy.
Soon after this, I entered sixth grade and that was the beginning of the end for me. I remember several friends I had gone to school with from kindergarten through fifth grade. Once school started that year all my former friends began treating and viewing me as the outcast. Any friend I may have had or thought I had simply vanished from my existence. From this point on, I was the joke. I was the one that everyone made fun of on a daily basis. While fellow students were having crushes on other boys and girls, I had to somehow conjure up whatever I had inside me to make it through the school day. I was teased, laughed at, and humiliated daily. This escalated into being called gay, fag, homo, and any other homosexual term anyone could think to call me on a daily basis. I remember praying to God that when I began seventh grade this would all stop since I would be going to junior high school. I knew the same kids I went to elementary school with would be there, however, we would have new students there from other schools also. I remember feeling a little at ease initially and maybe this will be okay. Not too much time passed and I was enduring the same pain and torture on a daily basis. I had to try to say to myself that they don't know me. I kept all of this hidden from my family. I didn't want them to know I was enduring such pain and humiliation at school. I figured my Father would blame me for all of it so I didn't want to even address the problem. My Mother was struggling with being diagnosed with cancer and undergoing chemotherapy so I didn't want to trouble her either. I did meet one person in junior high who remained my friend throughout the rest of my school years. Unfortunately he was teased and bullied as well so I think we bonded somewhat over our tortured existence at school.
When I entered high school is when things escalated into more of a physical nature. I had, of course continued to endure the verbal torment - the name calling and hearing I was a faggot daily. Now I had to deal with being spit on in class. I had to watch my every move in between classes or on the school grounds as I would be physically assaulted or have to dodge things being thrown at me. Although I went to several teachers and counselors, it seemed as if none of them were there to help me. I remember one time when of the punks would sit and make fun of me right in front of one of my teachers. She did nothing. She just let the abuse continue. All I could think was couldn't someone in the public school system help me? There were so many suicidal thoughts during these years. I read once that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. This passage helped me to realize I didn't want to kill myself. I just wanted the pain and suffering to end so I could live my life. However, I realized I was on my own and so I somehow made it through the rest of my high school years with most of my sanity intact.
Today, I still have all the emotional scars to show for the trauma of my youth. All of the torment and abuse has made me very shy and quiet. I long to be the fun, loud, and outgoing personality that I only exhibit to those that I am extremely close. I wish there was some way to instill in young people today the results and aftermath of the teasing and bullying they do to others. The damage that can be done to them can last a lifetime. With all of this, I feel I have the last revenge as all of the naysayers have given me the best writing material I could ever ask for. With that, I say thank you to all the miserable people who tried to break my spirit. To think this all started with someone confusing me as a girl instead of a boy.
Comments
Post a Comment