Bully.

I first posted on my story about bully on Instagram a few years back. It was when I started to first talk about how I came to build my self-confidence, as a motivation for women empowerment. I am going to talk about it again, but today I am going to touch base about the topic of bully, that is really becoming a huge issue these days. This is not a post to gain pity, nor is it a post to boast. Instead it is a post to raise awareness of the topic of ‘psychological’ bully and empowerment.

So today I decided to dig a bit deeper on the issue of bullying. Kids can be the meanest with their peers, you might think it is an innocent ‘oh budak, diorang tak faham lagi (oh kids, they still don’t understand)’. Yes, I am not denying this is true, the kids that are bullying at a young age are immature, and could not comprehend how their actions could affect the person being bullied. However, it is our responsibility as adults to tell them or to advise them that it is not ‘fun’ to do so, Don’t just leave them doing what they’re doing just because they are ‘kids’ because no matter what it is still affecting the kid being bullied.

I’ll start with a few stories of mine, something simple that I could relate with. Back when I was four/five, I used to live in London. I had a great time going to school over there. I started attending playschool and year one over there. I remember how I used to love school; it was a lot of fun! We had excursions to the park for art class, and we could draw anything we want according to our imagination. We also had a reading corner where the books were placed according to its difficulty level. I really enjoyed reading time (especially since I was often praised for being the only one able to read the hardest level at that age – eceh, zaman dulu je lah aku advanced). Coming back to Malaysia, I had a hard time adjusting. I had a little bit of a culture shock coming to school, dah lah ‘bajet mat salleh tak reti cakap melayu’. My English was also very British; I had a hard time communicating with my friends.

I had to return back to kindergarten, where I had nice friends (well I had no friends, but at least I wasn’t bullied), but I got bored because they were learning numbers and alphabets when I was already forced by Grandma to memorize my multiplication table up to 12 (okay, this is not meant to boast, it was just what it was... I must say though past Amalia was pretty amazing). So my parents had to find a school for me where I could start early.

We came across a private school (always felt guilty for my parents who had to take loans just to send me off to school) where they place you according to your ability. So I had to take an assessment and they placed me to primary one, so I started school early. At this school is when I was first exposed to bullying. Don’t get me wrong; there was nothing wrong with the school. Everywhere you go pon, sama je… Kids can be mean.

As I said earlier, I had culture shock, but it was even worse when I started my primary school. People were speaking Malay, which I understood but could not communicate well with, they were making fun of my British accent, I was left out because I could not fit in, and I remember how no one brought a drawing block for art class and since my mom wanted me to be happy to go to school, she bought me one and I had to give the paper to the whole class, I got scolded because I finished it up too fast. I had bladder issues and I usually accidentally pee. I wonder if it is all anxiety? But I remember hating to go to school, and would cry every morning and made my mom go to work late. I never told my parents I was bullied, they never knew I had a hard time adjusting. I thought if I complained, they would just think I am making up excuses, me being the drama queen I am. Truth is the reason why I did not want to go to school was because I JUST HATED SCHOOL. I was that one kid that did not belong.

That issue went by, because if y’all know me… I can adapt to changes pretty easily. So I clicked with everybody by the second half of the semester (I think), I had friends. I lost my British accent (unfortunately) so I could fit in, but hey… when in Rome, do as the Romans do.  I guess that was the first thing I learned, adjusting to the change, but still stay true to yourself because I had the confidence that I was fun being me, I just needed to change the way I spoke.  As time passed by, another set of ‘bullies’ came to my life, this is at adolescent age, when as a girl you start being conscious of your looks. I think I was about 9 (Okay, I mature early.. my 9 equals to 12 years old in normal dictionary). I also look like so, not only would a random passerby get confused of my age, even those who are close do (I’m always expected to be 3 years older than my age – I’ll talk about this later), I don’t blame them… I have always looked old aka ‘matured’.

I never realized before this if I looked pretty or if I looked ugly, never really cared. I was oblivious of any beauty standards. Everybody loved me for who I am, so never thought it was a problem. Only until this point I realized, how I looked didn’t fit in the normal standard (again this is based on my feelings at that time).  I just realized that when I look at people my right eye would sway away, my teeth was too far apart and they did not close properly, my lips were joined and I have an igloo on my tongue (I still think it’s pretty cool). I started to realize this when my seniors that take the same van back from school use to tease me. The one thing that I remember most was the day when I presented for a storytelling competition, when I went back, I remember being cursed ‘why would you go up the stage, you’re ugly F*CK off’. Like literally, at that time I guess saying ‘F*ck’ was like the coolest thing ever to do. Like these days saying F*ck is like, meh... nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. But at that time, it was like a HUGE insult. That’s when I first ‘realized’ I was ‘ugly’. Since then, I, the one who loves performing, hated even looking at people when I talk. I was always conscious. I was blessed with great family and friends throughout the years that never made me realize I was lacking. Since then (up to the next phase), whenever I meet someone new, every time I have a one to one conversation, I’ll start looking somewhere else. Okaylah, to be honest this is the only thing I have yet to overcome fully. I still look somewhere else if I am uncomfortable, but I could at least look at a person for more than 5 minutes, or until I see signs that the person doesn’t know where to look at me in the eye. One thing I was lucky for at this period of time, was because my cousin aka my childhood bestfriend was attending the same school with me. We were different classes, but knowing that I have a friend to accompany me after school and on the van, really relieved me. Thank you ah, my fellow INFJ buddy. 

Secondary School took place, I overcame the past scars (at least I moved on) and also had my teeth fixed with retainers, so one less of an issue. Now comes another set of bullies in my life, bullies that played with the ‘cinta monyet (monkey love) phase’.  HAHAHA!!! Okay, this might be more of an embarrassing and more personal set of stories, so you might want to skip my secondary school story if you are uncomfortable.

Ahhh… Secondary school, its when we realize we have a crush on someone (or plural). Yes, one-sided mostly for me, wahahaha. At this time, I kind of understood it would be one-sided, guys will usually have a crush on the pretty ones, plus I’m known to be the mediator, or you could call me ‘the wing(wo)man'. Secrets were all in my hand, but I had my fair share of stories (umm... Mama and Abah, if you’re reading this, I’m old enough to disclose my silly crush stories right? BAHAHA). Okay, coming back to the topic of bully, the bullies that came to my life cannot make it more obvious to me or make me hurt and destroy my already ‘stable’ self-confidence. I think these set of bullies crushed me the most. I guess it crushed me the most because it was one of the most crucial and sensitive growing part of life.

I think it was sometime in Secondary 3 (I was 12, just had my mensus. But like I said, I was like a 15 year old because most of my peers were). One day two seniors of mine came to me and said they told this person X that I had a crush on him (which I don’t, super embarrassing). But the response was even worst, they told me how disgusted the guy was when he knew about it and laughed so badly at me. Dahlah I was wrongly accused, cakap pulak macam tu. It doesn’t help that I already know no one had a crush on me (again… the thought at that time), you had to break every wall of self confidence that I have rebuilt again? I was so crushed, to the core. I didn’t dare to look at the guy again, nor do I have the ‘guts’ to ‘confess’ my cinta monyet to anyone. HAHAHAHA.

Secondary 5 happened, I was no longer bullied; I was part of the ‘popular’ group and someone came to like me for who I am. I basked on that happiness, alah budak-budak remaja. I wasn’t even 17, I was 14 at that time wahahaha. This time my role was reversed, I became the nappeun yeolja (the mean woman, to put it nicely). I did not bully, because I know it was wrong. But I was part of a group that isolated people that ‘don’t belong’.  I was mean, and I apologize for isolating certain people at that time – including my lifelong bestfriend. I guess it was just over my head that I was cool. We were literally like the mean girls from the movie mean girls - like you can't sit with us (versi baik sikit, we’re actually nice people *cough* – it just got to our head. My 2 girlfriends are people that you all love now), and my realization was like when Cady Heron returned back to becoming a mathelete. So I insaf, and got to college andddd… that's another story. Point is at Secondary 5, I was in the shoes of the bully. I felt so horrible. I am appalled by my own self. Temporary popularity and fun, but guilt came after.

The story has gotten too long, so I’ll stop here. But the point of me exposing these stories is not to tell the biography of my life (like who am I lah to cerita story of my life). But it is because I am blessed with these experiences that I had as a child that made me become who I am today. These stories could help me relate further to those people that might be in the same shoes. I feel that there is a need to share so that parents can maybe relate to their children, kids could maybe feel better about them, knowing that these experiences would make them become stronger! I hope that by sharing this, this will somehow help someone in his or her life. Don’t get me wrong, my school life wasn’t that bad; to be honest it was not bad at all. I had so many pleasant and good memories, and I did so much in both primary and high school that these negative things became just small memories hidden in the corner of my brain and heart. But, this also tells you that these small memories were so unpleasant to me that I remembered every single detail.

I know what I have gone through is nothing like those bully cases that happened recently, and in a way I am blessed to be a female. No physical form of bully was attempted. But, words… words can be the sharpest blade of all. Psychological bully can be really dangerous. Kids at a young age are very fragile and get affected easily, and it leaves a deep scar on them. It lowers down their self-esteem and self worth, and sometimes people are unlucky enough that they are still affected by it till they get older. Some get depression; some might still be fighting to overcome certain phobias that were developed from the scars that they have been through.

Whatever it is, if you are being bullied right now, and it hurts. It hurts so much. Be strong!! Never lose hope. Please tell your parents or someone about it, do not keep it to yourself. If you think there is no one out there who will listen to you, just tell someone till you find one. Tell whomever you trust. It helps you lower your sadness in the heart.

With the current rising standard of beauty, never feel like you are not worth it. Every part of you is beautiful. I know this might be cliché, but trust me. If someone likes you for who you are, that is more worth it then any kind of ‘crush’ because you’re beautiful. If people like you for your kind heart and personality, it is more beautiful than people liking you for your face. I truly believe and hold on to the principle that being beautiful inside is what matters! Beauty is not just what comes to the eye, but that self-confidence that you portray is what reflects your beauty. Its accepting your flaws and appreciating what you have is what beauty is all about. Be confident, people can only love you when you love yourself. Be kind, be respectful, never bully other people because it’s ‘fun’. It would not be fun if you are in his or her shoes wouldn’t it?

Love,
AA.