It Gets Better

By: Monica Tam

Along the lines of youth violence, I've only really actually dealt with bullying. But I know a lot about how it feels. Both to being the victim of such torment, and to witness it.

Maybe it's the media or maybe it's just our generation but these days some people get a sick enjoyment of watching others suffer. Whatever happened to us? What happened to innocence and good will? What happened to open compliments and wanting to make someone smile? It's not overrated and it's definitely not immature.

I think my experience with bullying started ever since I began school. I was the weird kid, you know? I had small slanted Asian eyes and that horrible dark fuzz on my upper lip. I acted weirdly and kids just didn't like me. I was always a pushover and I did anything for anyone, always hoping for a little love that I never got. In first grade I gave this guy in my class a dollar bill every day for about a week—very stupid, I know—because I thought he'd be my friend if I did. He liked me when I gave it to him at least, but that didn't last long. He tripped me one day when I was going to lunch. It wasn't on accident; he had a friend who helped him.

In first grade I also had a really good friend. I remember once that she and I actually jumped up and down in each other's arms because we were going to the computer lab. I liked her, I'm pretty sure. She was in all my classes until fifth grade, when I transferred to another school. I don't know what happened, but after first grade she hated my guts. She'd steal from me, insult me from time to time, and once she told one of the few friends I had that she couldn't play with her because she was friends with me. I was weird, I was ugly, I was fat. I wasn't wanted.

It's really lonely, you know? To sit in class with barely a single friend. And the people you knew that didn't really hate you but didn't like you all that much either? Well, if they say hi, they sure aren't going to sit with you at lunch or play with you at recess. And probably, that might be why I turned out so reserved and quiet. I don't know how I would've been if I hadn't been bullied so early on but I know that even though it's left a few scars, it's also imparted a few pieces of knowledge too.

People don't like people that are not what they're used to. Those 'weird' people, those different? They get excluded, burned from the picture. Some are civil enough to just leave them alone, but some don't care enough to not be rude or intimidating. But then sometimes that's not even the worst, you know? Because it hurts when you're the last one called or the last one picked. The thing with feeling unwanted and lonely is that it isn't like anger. It doesn't go away after a few hours or minutes, it lingers. It makes you feel empty and out of place, and then there's that voice that starts telling you all about you're faults and weaknesses. You're such a loser. You'll never fit in. They all hate you. No one wants you here. You should just go. You should just die.

Fifth grade was in a way my saving grace. I was desperate when I started that I'd make a good impression and that no one would think I was 'weird'. I hoped they wouldn't mind my slanted eyes or my chubbiness. I hoped no one would exclude me again. I wanted friends; I wanted to go on sleepovers. I wanted someone to talk to, to laugh with. I got everything and more from my fifth grade compadres. I like being weird these days, they helped me figure out it was something good, not bad. I gained some confidence, got a bit of a backbone. I'm still a bit reserved sometimes, but they were like my guardian angels. Without them, I could've never figured out how much I loved writing or how much I liked singing or how much I loved talking and laughing with somebody who actually enjoyed my company. Thank you is something I don't think they'll ever understand how much I mean it when I say it to them.

In the end, I learned a lot. A lot of it is really cynical and bitter too, but I've learned also that being bitter does nothing. Two wrongs do not make a right, as they say. So here I am, sharing my story. I'm telling you, my reader, that you shouldn't judge so easily. That girl over there with the big stomach and slight uni-brow? She could turn out a model one day for all you know, and you telling her she's fat and ugly won't do anything to help her reach her future. Everyone in this world was meant to be here, and we're all equal. We are not mistakes or misconceptions, we are not freaks of nature and we will be here till the end of time. So, just deal with us. Accept us. Adapt. You're human, we're human. And whether or not we like the same sex or we believe in the same religion or we dress the same or we like the same things, we deserve the same respect that you deserve. And if you've been bullied or hurt or still are, don't give up or desert yourself. Someone loves you, and needs you, and wants you. Embrace the weirdness, because we are the majority. Not the minority.