I Admit I Was A Bully at School

I have been wanting to write this post for a long time.

It’s something I have been thinking about a lot since becoming a mother.

Reading other bloggers write about how childhood bullying has affected them (or their own children) has also made me think more about this. Posts like Madam Bipolar's, Maxabella’s, Melissa’s and Louisa’s.....

Last week I read and commented on Megan from Writing Out Loud’s post where she revealed a long held secret about the effect school age bullying has had on her self esteem.

Just before I commented on the post, Megan replied to someone else’s comment saying:

“No one ever admits to being a bully. So either they’re in denial and don’t want to admit it, or they didn’t realise the effect they had on someone’s life.”

But you see, my comment was in fact to tell her:

“I have been bullied and also been a bully at school and at the time never really understood it fit into that category of behaviour we now know as bullying. I also struggle with the little man in my head who keeps promoting self doubt. Being so self aware is half the battle I think.”

You see I was fessing up to having been a bully at school.

Let me tell you about it.

Despite being 25 years ago, I can remember precisely when it began. We were about 9 years old and I think in grade 5. One lunch time, we were sitting as a group of girls and the girl in question (later victim) for some reason wasn’t there. It was her birthday coming up and I have no idea why or who suggested it, but in conversation someone said they didn’t really like her and suggested none up us go to her party. We all agreed. WTF!?!

Where the hell it came from or why half a dozen 9 year olds all of a sudden decide not to like a girl who they’d all been good friends with, I don’t know. Perhaps it was just the desire to fit in. To be part of a group. Peer pressure. Not once did any of us stop to think about the flow on effect. We were neither mature enough nor was bullying something that was ever discussed in school or by our parents.

The flow on effect was a total alienation from this girl. We ignored her and teased her. Her mother began calling each of our parents. She was frantically trying to help her daughter. I remember being somewhere with a few of the other mothers and they were talking about the reaction from the bullied girl’s mum. She had threatened to involve the police. She was highly emotional and at the time we all thought it was funny, as did our own Mothers. Now this is something that sits badly with me.

Our own mothers did question us as to what had gone on (and I don’t remember how we answered) but I do know we weren’t held accountable for our behaviour.

It went on for a long time.

We then went onto high school and the only person in my year 7 class that I knew from Primary school was the girl I had picked on.

We were courteous to each other but never friends.

Let me paint some context here too. I always struggled to make friends. Once I did I was ok and it is something that I still find difficult. As a kid, my mum would try to make my friends for me. Dragging me to the playground on holidays in a caravan park trying to broker an introduction. It was SO uncool to have your mum do that. I would stand sheepishly behind her as she introduced me to a random kid and asked them to play with me. On weekends when I wanted a playmate, she would try to arrange it for me or tell me who I should ring and ask over. Like everyone I just wanted to fit in.

Teenage girls can be really bitchy. Searching for an identity with hormones running wild is hard at the best of times.

When I was about 13 another girl at high school bullied me. In a similar way to which I just described. My bunch of friends were influenced when she decided not to like me anymore. She picked on me and whilst they didn’t get too involved, I became isolated from our group. She was an angry girl - angry at the world for the condition she was born with (Cystic Fibrosis). We all knew she was sick. But one day I decided I’d had enough and stood up to her in front of a large group in the school yard.

There were punches thrown – I lashed out at the sick girl and her back at me. I won (if you call it that) and my friends welcomed me back. My bully later went on to loose her battle with her illness and I still think of her often, wondering what we could have done to make it different. Or maybe we both needed the outcome and the path taken to shape us.

But back to the first girl from Primary School. Around year 9 (age 14) I confided in another friend about our Primary school bullying. She took it to the extreme and began the teasing all over. I stayed out of it, but it was a case of guilt by association and I did nothing to make it right.

I feel terrible. I have on occasion thought of trying to contact this person. Her name is so common that Google or Facebook searches would be futile.

I know friends from those days might read this and will know exactly who I am talking about. What would I tell her? That I get it now. That I am incredibly sorry it took so long to understand. That I wish I had acted differently and been bold enough to stand up and admit we were wrong. That I am now a mother and it breaks my heart when I see my own son cry and I totally understand how it must have been for her and her family.

I am not writing this to help myself feel better. What I am trying to say is that sometimes bullying is pack mentality. Particularly at Primary school age kids are immature. In the 1980’s there wasn’t the media attention to bullying that meant schools had to become accountable and teach kids about the impact their behaviour has on others.

I wonder why our parents and schools didn’t do more though? Even just out of pure empathy?

Maybe they did try – but if they did I don’t remember any of it, which leads me to believe they didn’t.

I feel really shitty about what happened, but I can’t change it. All I can do is my absolute best to teach my son values and behaviour that is kind and considerate to others. It’s not an easy one. Kids will always just want to fit in.

So yes, I admit it, I have been a bully. I have also been on the receiving end, not just in the scenario I described here, but in the workplace not so long ago – but that is something I am still undecided whether to write about.

It is a complex issue and there are all sorts of reasons behind bullying. Whilst not justifying by any means, I am here putting my hand up to say I am not in denial, I am admitting it and I do realise the effect I have had on this person’s life.

I normally end my posts with a question. But this time I am not sure what I want to ask. Many of you who have been bullied may think differently of me….