That's a great way of capturing the dynamic of being a boy, J.E. However, it seems like it might be changing as schools are willing to confront bullying rather than shrugging their shoulders and saying, "Boys will be boys."
It takes a lot of strength and courage to share vulnerabilities like this—something you do well Ryan. You are an exemplary model of how deep reflection can serve to help others who may find themselves on similar paths. When I was a school principal, I combatted all acts of bullying aggressively—not by draconian methods, but by compassion because we, as a staff, knew the Truism: “Hurt people hurt people.” Every student I worked with who exhibited bullying tendencies had reasons why they exhibited bullying tendencies. As a staff, we also instructed ourselves to never call a child “a bully.” In my schools, bullies didn’t exist. Those kids who bullied others were hurting kids who either learned somewhere how to hurt and control others OR were not skilled in how to manage their own hurt.
Sorry. I’m passionate about this kind of work. It’s one of the things I miss the most about not being in schools anymore.
No need to apologize. It makes sense that you're passionate about this topic, Kert. This is especially true since you care (there's that word!) deeply about people's well-being. Your care and experience are evident in how you engage on Substack, and I'm grateful for and admire how you worked with those who bullied and were bullied.
I appreciate your kind words and encouragement. You wouldn't know it, but I was too terrified to reveal myself online for years. As you say, it's healing for me and maybe helpful for others.
My son has experienced bullying both in school and in workplaces and at age 33, has difficulty with not bullying himself. It breaks my heart to see him love and forgive others, but finds it hard to love and forgive himself. He bases his worth mostly on what others think of him. My biggest wish is that he would love himself unconditionally. Thank you so much for your post. If you could suggest ways I might support him, I would so appreciate it. Love to you and everyone who experiences self bullying.
I hear your sincere wish for your son to extend the same love and forgiveness to himself as he does to others, Danette. At your son's age, that could describe me, so there's hope.
Understanding what's happening can help. Self-bullying is a product of shame, which can't coexist with empathy, as Brené Brown says. So, when we respond to another person's shame with compassion, it is healing for them.
But shame can be so painful that we will do almost anything to avoid it. We are only willing to reveal our pain to others when we feel safe. Even then, it may be too overwhelming for our nervous system. The key is to create the conditions for the person's nervous system to calm down enough to begin grieving and talking about all the dammed-up pain. For me, yoga and meditation helped calm my nervous system. I found meditation retreats, workshops (psychodrama), therapy, men's groups and talking with a friend to be healing. Somatic therapy seems to be the gold standard today for healing shame, but I don't have the experience to validate this.
Danette, my heart breaks for you son and we can see your love for him in your plea. I know you asked Ryan for some guidance so I don’t want to usurp the wisdom he can provide from his direct experience, so he should be respond. Just know that others who read your comment hear are bearing witness to it and project out towards you and your son some necessary light and healing. Thirty-three years of toxic self-talk produces deep wounds. But those wounds can be healed. Trauma isn’t what happens to you; trauma is what happens inside you because of what happens to you. Bullying happens to you (shame on all bullies!); but the emotional and psychic wounds are the result of not knowing inside what to do to metabolize the hate and negativity. Through relationships built on love, compassion, and care, humans heal. So may your son find and surround himself with the peeps who can help him toward more healthy inner dialogues. The peeps are out there—he needs to believe it, then start believing in himself. No one else matters. (If you’re interested, look up Michael Singer’s work on The Untethered Soul).
I'm so grateful you left such a supportive, hopeful and encouraging comment, Kert. Knowing it's possible is the most essential part of healing. The mechanics are secondary.
Ryan, your story is a powerful reminder that the impact of bullying can linger for years, even decades. It's not just about the physical or verbal abuse; it's about the internalization of those messages, the feeling of not belonging, the erosion of self-worth. It takes courage to share your experiences and even more courage to confront those deep-seated wounds. Thank you for reminding us that healing is possible, even if it takes time.
I appreciate your affirmation, Alexander, and I agree with everything you say here. I'm heartened that schools are actively addressing bullying and that my stepkids have experienced less bullying as a result.
I've sometimes wondered what would happen if I found my main bully and approached him? It could go badly for either one of us. I'm not the scrawny kid he used to push around. I'm also not the trained fighter part of me imagines me to be. Either way, I've landed on "not worth it."
There is a part of me that modeled itself after the bullies who taunted me. He shows up whenever another part of me feels challenged or weak. This self-created defender thinks he's pretty tough, and even wears a leather jacket that I used to own. He's about 19 years old, and I can see him clearly in the mind.
He means well, but I don't have use for him in that role anymore. But! When he shows up? It's clear that something is worth fighting for. I just don't prefer to let him handle it. There are more diplomatic parts of this life that do a better job. Leather Jacket is just the alarm bell now. At least, that's the story I tell myself.
This much I know is true: My bullies get zero credit for the work all of these parts of me have done to reconcile the abuse.
I can relate to all of this and especially appreciate the last line, Damon—zero credit.
Years ago, I found "Roger" online and fantasized about saying hi on Facebook and asking him, "So, are you still an asshole?" The little boy in me longed to be empowered. Like you, I saw it for what it was and let it go.
Thank you for sharing your story Ryan. It breaks my heart to see how years of abuse transforms into low self-worth and self-harm over time. Your journey of healing through all that pain is inspiring. Wishing you continued strength and resilience.
Wow, what a kind and considerate comment, Akanksha. It is heartbreaking for the millions who are bullied, isn't it? Thanks for reading and for your encouraging words. Means a lot to me.
Wow, boy-on-boy bullying is similar and very different to girl-on-girl bullying. And yet, I would bet if you took a poll there is one consistent truth, everyone has been bullied at some point or another.
I remember entering high school the terror of walking through the commons because of the rumors that some crowd of upperclassmen would choose an awkward nerdy underclassman to saran-wrap to a post. By that time I'd mastered my invisibility cloak, and found every alternative route around the commons so that I never had to go through. Not just cuz I was scared of bullies, but because the mere crowd of the commons was overwhelming to my over-sensitive self.
And, I remember my senior year, the most popular kid in the class was assigned the seat next to me in Composition class. He was suddenly interested in who I was. But I was wise to his ways. Like your bully-frenemy...he didn't want to be my friend. He wanted to cheat off me to get a passing grade. I was kind to him, but kept my papers covered. After 3 weeks of class, I asked the teacher if I could finish the class independent study. My bully-frenemy flunked the course, and still walked the graduation line wearing balloons attached to his mortar board.
Your last line is brilliant "The bullying continued and didn't end until, at 32, I began to heal and stop bullying myself." Somehow, when I went to college I stopped bullying myself on some levels, and my peers stopped bullying me. But that's when my professor bullied me. And that was a whole new level.
Omg, I remember the commons. I walked through it, but since it was where all the cool, athletic, beautiful kids hung out, I never did. I don't think I ever once went out on the deck. The saran wrap rumor sounds familiar.
I love the story about the most popular kid. Good for you for seeing what he was up to. Of course, he still graduated because why not? He's just so dang likable.
Good for you learning to stop bullying yourself early, and you'll have to tell me about the prof.
Growing up as boys often feels like living out our own versions of Lord of the Flies.
That's a great way of capturing the dynamic of being a boy, J.E. However, it seems like it might be changing as schools are willing to confront bullying rather than shrugging their shoulders and saying, "Boys will be boys."
🙃🙃🙃🤗🤗🤗😘😘😘😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰
Love the evolution of the emojis, Mr. Ma. 😊
It takes a lot of strength and courage to share vulnerabilities like this—something you do well Ryan. You are an exemplary model of how deep reflection can serve to help others who may find themselves on similar paths. When I was a school principal, I combatted all acts of bullying aggressively—not by draconian methods, but by compassion because we, as a staff, knew the Truism: “Hurt people hurt people.” Every student I worked with who exhibited bullying tendencies had reasons why they exhibited bullying tendencies. As a staff, we also instructed ourselves to never call a child “a bully.” In my schools, bullies didn’t exist. Those kids who bullied others were hurting kids who either learned somewhere how to hurt and control others OR were not skilled in how to manage their own hurt.
Sorry. I’m passionate about this kind of work. It’s one of the things I miss the most about not being in schools anymore.
No need to apologize. It makes sense that you're passionate about this topic, Kert. This is especially true since you care (there's that word!) deeply about people's well-being. Your care and experience are evident in how you engage on Substack, and I'm grateful for and admire how you worked with those who bullied and were bullied.
I appreciate your kind words and encouragement. You wouldn't know it, but I was too terrified to reveal myself online for years. As you say, it's healing for me and maybe helpful for others.
My son has experienced bullying both in school and in workplaces and at age 33, has difficulty with not bullying himself. It breaks my heart to see him love and forgive others, but finds it hard to love and forgive himself. He bases his worth mostly on what others think of him. My biggest wish is that he would love himself unconditionally. Thank you so much for your post. If you could suggest ways I might support him, I would so appreciate it. Love to you and everyone who experiences self bullying.
I hear your sincere wish for your son to extend the same love and forgiveness to himself as he does to others, Danette. At your son's age, that could describe me, so there's hope.
Understanding what's happening can help. Self-bullying is a product of shame, which can't coexist with empathy, as Brené Brown says. So, when we respond to another person's shame with compassion, it is healing for them.
But shame can be so painful that we will do almost anything to avoid it. We are only willing to reveal our pain to others when we feel safe. Even then, it may be too overwhelming for our nervous system. The key is to create the conditions for the person's nervous system to calm down enough to begin grieving and talking about all the dammed-up pain. For me, yoga and meditation helped calm my nervous system. I found meditation retreats, workshops (psychodrama), therapy, men's groups and talking with a friend to be healing. Somatic therapy seems to be the gold standard today for healing shame, but I don't have the experience to validate this.
What do you think?
Danette, my heart breaks for you son and we can see your love for him in your plea. I know you asked Ryan for some guidance so I don’t want to usurp the wisdom he can provide from his direct experience, so he should be respond. Just know that others who read your comment hear are bearing witness to it and project out towards you and your son some necessary light and healing. Thirty-three years of toxic self-talk produces deep wounds. But those wounds can be healed. Trauma isn’t what happens to you; trauma is what happens inside you because of what happens to you. Bullying happens to you (shame on all bullies!); but the emotional and psychic wounds are the result of not knowing inside what to do to metabolize the hate and negativity. Through relationships built on love, compassion, and care, humans heal. So may your son find and surround himself with the peeps who can help him toward more healthy inner dialogues. The peeps are out there—he needs to believe it, then start believing in himself. No one else matters. (If you’re interested, look up Michael Singer’s work on The Untethered Soul).
I'm so grateful you left such a supportive, hopeful and encouraging comment, Kert. Knowing it's possible is the most essential part of healing. The mechanics are secondary.
Ryan, your story is a powerful reminder that the impact of bullying can linger for years, even decades. It's not just about the physical or verbal abuse; it's about the internalization of those messages, the feeling of not belonging, the erosion of self-worth. It takes courage to share your experiences and even more courage to confront those deep-seated wounds. Thank you for reminding us that healing is possible, even if it takes time.
I appreciate your affirmation, Alexander, and I agree with everything you say here. I'm heartened that schools are actively addressing bullying and that my stepkids have experienced less bullying as a result.
This piece had me at "bully..."
I've sometimes wondered what would happen if I found my main bully and approached him? It could go badly for either one of us. I'm not the scrawny kid he used to push around. I'm also not the trained fighter part of me imagines me to be. Either way, I've landed on "not worth it."
There is a part of me that modeled itself after the bullies who taunted me. He shows up whenever another part of me feels challenged or weak. This self-created defender thinks he's pretty tough, and even wears a leather jacket that I used to own. He's about 19 years old, and I can see him clearly in the mind.
He means well, but I don't have use for him in that role anymore. But! When he shows up? It's clear that something is worth fighting for. I just don't prefer to let him handle it. There are more diplomatic parts of this life that do a better job. Leather Jacket is just the alarm bell now. At least, that's the story I tell myself.
This much I know is true: My bullies get zero credit for the work all of these parts of me have done to reconcile the abuse.
I can relate to all of this and especially appreciate the last line, Damon—zero credit.
Years ago, I found "Roger" online and fantasized about saying hi on Facebook and asking him, "So, are you still an asshole?" The little boy in me longed to be empowered. Like you, I saw it for what it was and let it go.
Thank you for sharing your story Ryan. It breaks my heart to see how years of abuse transforms into low self-worth and self-harm over time. Your journey of healing through all that pain is inspiring. Wishing you continued strength and resilience.
Wow, what a kind and considerate comment, Akanksha. It is heartbreaking for the millions who are bullied, isn't it? Thanks for reading and for your encouraging words. Means a lot to me.
Wow, boy-on-boy bullying is similar and very different to girl-on-girl bullying. And yet, I would bet if you took a poll there is one consistent truth, everyone has been bullied at some point or another.
I remember entering high school the terror of walking through the commons because of the rumors that some crowd of upperclassmen would choose an awkward nerdy underclassman to saran-wrap to a post. By that time I'd mastered my invisibility cloak, and found every alternative route around the commons so that I never had to go through. Not just cuz I was scared of bullies, but because the mere crowd of the commons was overwhelming to my over-sensitive self.
And, I remember my senior year, the most popular kid in the class was assigned the seat next to me in Composition class. He was suddenly interested in who I was. But I was wise to his ways. Like your bully-frenemy...he didn't want to be my friend. He wanted to cheat off me to get a passing grade. I was kind to him, but kept my papers covered. After 3 weeks of class, I asked the teacher if I could finish the class independent study. My bully-frenemy flunked the course, and still walked the graduation line wearing balloons attached to his mortar board.
Your last line is brilliant "The bullying continued and didn't end until, at 32, I began to heal and stop bullying myself." Somehow, when I went to college I stopped bullying myself on some levels, and my peers stopped bullying me. But that's when my professor bullied me. And that was a whole new level.
Omg, I remember the commons. I walked through it, but since it was where all the cool, athletic, beautiful kids hung out, I never did. I don't think I ever once went out on the deck. The saran wrap rumor sounds familiar.
I love the story about the most popular kid. Good for you for seeing what he was up to. Of course, he still graduated because why not? He's just so dang likable.
Good for you learning to stop bullying yourself early, and you'll have to tell me about the prof.
Bullying oneself can be so painful.
It sure can, Henrik. I know that pain intimately.