~Thought For The Day~ My Opinion of Bullies ©

     The dictionary defines a bully as this; a blustering, quarrelsome person who habitually badgers and intimidates people who are seemingly weaker than them.

Now, you read that again.

A bully is so much more but of course Webster’s Dictionary can only give you a brief definition, so let me elaborate.  

I will start with myself; I was tall for my age, the gawky girl, the weirdo if you will, because I have always been different. Therefore I was a big ol target for bullies. Anytime someone is the least bit different, you will find that you draw more attention. I didn’t understand this concept at a young age, and I didn’t know how to handle the taunts of kids, and hey even adults. Yes, I had an adult bully me from childhood into adulthood. We will go there later.

I would go home, cry to Mama, and beg to quit school, but at 9, I really couldn't do that now could I?

Mama’s advice was to stand up, and walk with my head high, because they were jealous of the “different” girl. I should have taken her advice, but hindsight is 20/20 now isn’t it?

What was my approach? I hate to say it; I kept being my silly, goofy self, but I broke bad and starting beating the crap out of a few of my bullies. Their words and taunts still hurt, but now I was for lack of a better term,” Kicking ass and taking names.”

I did earn respect in some ways, but I just didn’t feel right. I kept it up. Coming home all torn up, and then finally I faced a bully one Saturday afternoon that was twice my size. He kicked my butt. I didn’t stop, by the end of that day I had blacked both his eyes and gave him a limp. Mama wasn’t mad, but the boy’s Mother was furious. I listened closely as Mom spoke to the other Mother, “I won’t say I am going to punish her, she stood up for herself, what she did wasn’t the best way to handle it, but I bet you five bucks he never touches her again.” Afterwards I received a stern talking to about taking justice in my own hands, and as she wiped off my bloody knuckles, she winked and said “I swear, I am still proud of you killer.” I laugh now, but as I venture back to that time, I see where I changed. I see that violence is not the answer. Did I learn my lesson? Well, no, I was kicked out of summer camp and sent home for beating up a girl who was picking on several girls that were smaller than her.

Mom still telling me that my best revenge would be to keep being myself and not let them get to me, from then on I approached the issue from another angle; I quit caring, or acting like I cared. Of course it hurt, but when I laughed it off, I saw that the bullies had no return attack because I didn't fold or act off of what they had provoked. I then became somewhat of a vigilante for kids that were bullied, I found myself in many fights and I didn’t care, I hated seeing kids picked on. Maybe I shouldn't have taken it to that level, but I was young and so mad at kids that couldn't fight back being the victim of physical and mental torture.  

That was many years ago, kids can’t display “playground justice” like we once would.

Today our children face a different level of violence, guns and weapons are involved and that is sickening. Also now with the internet very present in the lives of most every person, the cases of cyber bullying are staggering and it leads to some very grim places for our youth. Many see no way out and take their own lives. That makes me feel physically sick to my stomach.

I can’t imagine the thought process and fear that leads our children to take their own life because a bully is relentless and makes them feel worthless.

My son was bullied for some time when he was in school, I was furious, when he struck back, the system attempted to punish him for defending himself against physical harm. I sat in the office beside him, he was terrified and when I told the school administration that I was proud that he didn’t let this bully beat him to death, which after twelve hits to his face, my son finally was able to find the will and strength to push this boy off of him, who outweighed him by more than a 100 pounds and brought blood to the head of his tormentor  he replied “Teresa you are instilling violence in your children!” 

Me? Really? 

No, I taught my kids to never start it, but to always defend themselves and if possible to help others if they aren't capable of defending themselves.

I now see how dangerous bullying has become; lives are being lost because this epidemic is out of control.

This is only my opinion but I think a bully starts at home, I believe it is learned behavior, and I would bet my bottom dollar that a parent home either condones it is a grown up bully. My solution won’t fix it, but my fury towards this matter is to kick the asses of the parents who don’t stop their children. I know that isn't logical but in anger, I would like to. But how can we stop this growing problem? Seriously, how can we as parents and adults stop our children from suffering and dying from this senseless problem?

I really want to know.

Sadly, I see that this isn't just a childhood problem; adult bullies seem to be very common as well.

 Here is my definition of a bully, like it or not, here is my opinion. A bully is coward, a bully is jealous, and has let anger and fear rule their actions so they lash out at someone because they have no other outlet, they target people who have a weak spot, maybe the poor, the less fortunate, the different person, the one who goes against the grain, someone with a self esteem issues and that infuriates me. These are the targets of bullies, children and adults, we all have a weak spot and when a bully finds it, they play on it, and if they can’t find something to punish their victim with, they tend to spread vicious lies about them, therefore tormenting them even more so. I have seen this many times.

I don’t care what your sexual preference is, what skin tone you have, your gender, your financial bracket, NOBODY deserves to be bullied and if I had my way, I would show them how I handle it, by a good old fashion ass kicking.

 If I am using language that is offensive in this piece, I hate it for you, I am angry and you can agree or disagree, I don’t care. My words, my way! I didn't think of clever title for this piece because it isn't needed. I am telling you straight from my gut, how I feel and the anger I have about this issue. 

I think if we as a community rally to stop this mess, we can make a difference. Stand up for your kids, stand up for your friends, I don’t care how old you are. As a person who has been bullied many times, I can tell you first hand that just knowing someone cares and is on your side makes all the difference in the world. Stand up, use your voice, we can make a change, and slowly but surely stop people from dying because someone is a low life, name calling coward who uses scare tactics to evoke fear in the hearts of their victims. Oh what I wouldn't give for some good old fashioned playground justice!

If we band together, and show that we won’t back down, that bully has no power, and you rob them of the attention and power that feeds them.

But instead, stand with me, stand beside me and if you know someone is being harassed and bullied do everything you can to help, it seriously could save a life.

Here are my thoughts.

©

Teresa  ;)

~Thought For The Day~ Hey Beautiful, Yes, YOU! ©

     I remember being the gawky kid, tall, broad shoulders, and what my grandma called “big boned”.

I always got picked first for Red Rover and kickball, but I always went home and looked at myself, and wished I looked like the skinny little girls, with narrow shoulders and toothpick legs.

I voiced this to my Mother once, and it is a moment that I will never forget, because it came back to light years later. She marched me in front of her full length mirror, and had me look at myself.

Saying nothing at first, she stood behind me smiling.

I finally interjected, “But, Mama, look at my shoulders!” “All the better for people to lean on, baby”, she quickly answered.

‘But, I have stupid ol’ big bones!” “All the better for you to be noticed, honey!”  Her tone was now becoming a little sterner.

She pointed out my hair, my eyes that change colors, my lips that she bragged that were just like hers, my long eyelashes, and my tall stature.

She leaned in and said, “If you aren’t beautiful, then I don’t know who is. Why in God’s name would you want to look like everyone else? You have your own unique beauty.  Watch and see Tesi, you will be a knockout.”

I never really saw all that, but her words stuck with me, and I never cared what people thought of my looks.

Reaching 40, and becoming more aware of people, I have begun to notice more things about people, and their learned behavior.

I was scrolling through Facebook, and I saw two photos posted.

One was a full body shot of a friend, who is very curvy, with some meat on her bones, and very gorgeous. I looked at the comments, and all of them were so generic: “aww, you have such a pretty face”, etc. Now I scroll down further, and see a skinny chick with almost the same pose, and the replies hurt me. Hurt, because I felt sorry for our world, she had comments like “WOW, you are stunning, why aren’t you single”, and every person was talking about her rack, her hotness, and I sat here and cried.

I cried for our society.

Why is someone not gorgeous or beautiful because of what a size tag says?

Our society has become programmed to think that women are gorgeous if they have rock hard abs, a chest like a porn star, and a rear end that looks almost like a cartoon.

Yeah, did I mention, I am not built like that? I am curvy, but by God almighty, I am a beautiful person. Why? Not because I have a kicking rack, or a tail end that you can bounce quarters off of, but because I have so much more going for me.

Size does not equal beauty.

I have met some really gorgeous people by the standards of our now society, and they didn’t impress me at all; they were rude, mean and ugly inside, not all of them, but some. True beauty comes from within.

I am sickened that so many people gorgeous people walk this earth, and feel so ugly and ashamed because of the stupid stereotype that television, magazines and the media have set.

I also see this among people as they age, and that infuriates me, hey so what if someone is gorgeous at 21, can they maintain that beauty and still be stunning at 70? That is real beauty.

I have seen pics of men with rock hard abs and chiseled chins, ok for a moment they are ok, but give me a fella with a gorgeous soul and a poochie belly, and if that fella has a brain, I am highly attracted to them. It has nothing to do with the tag in his jeans.

I am sick to death of the standards that are set.

Kids and adults are made to feel shamed, for not looking just like everyone else, and that makes me want to scream.

A mindless set of boobs and some dude with 6 pack abs don’t make you dazzling.

Dazzling comes from an inner beauty, but there are so many folks who can’t see it, because of the crap we see online, in the stores or on TV.

I don’t have fake boobs, hell, I don’t have big ones, but my perky set will still be rocking at 70 so there!

Now, let’s go back to a couple of years ago.

My Mother was dying, and in my eyes she was just as stunning as she had always been. I watched her struggle to that same full length mirror; she had tears softly streaming down her tired face.

I stood behind her and said ‘What’s wrong Mama.”

She pointed out her wrinkles, her now slumping shoulders and the gray hair she gracefully wore.

I said “Mama, you are so pretty, look at those lips, I have a sensational set that you gave me, your shoulders, shoot Ma, I can hug you easier, and those wrinkles are smiles lines, and the signs of a life well lived.” She said “Look at these age spots”, Oh Mama those are pretty freckles that you earn as you age.”

I kissed her cheek while she watched me from behind, and I said “You are gorgeous Mama, and I see it in those big blue eyes that still sparkle.” I said,” Mama you will always be my pretty girl, just like I am yours.” We hugged and she cried and smiled that stunning smile, and we both felt so very pretty.

Mama died shortly after, but the day before she left me, I cried and even though she couldn’t speak, I told her how very gorgeous she was, and I ended it with “I love you my pretty girl.”

She was, age spots, graying hair and laugh lines.

Her beauty developed from a 21 year old into a stunning 65 year old woman who could still captivate anyone with just her presence.

STOP looking at all the outsides people, you will never find a perfect person, perfection doesn’t exists, but being beautiful can last a lifetime, and that comes from deep down inside and what kind of soul you carry inside that warms the hearts of others, built by how you treat others and the light you shine upon this world.

I am big boned, I have stretch marks from giving birth to two amazing sons and I have an outlook on the world that can outshine any cleavage or bouncy butt.  I am dazzling and so are you!

Be real people, and those who aren't too shallow to see it will appreciate it.

Now I am gonna take my big boned, broad shouldered self outside to enjoy the stars!

Here are my thoughts!

 ©

Teresa ;)