micro-memoir
The Bully and the Bullied — I Was Both
Hurt people hurt people
It’s not easy to admit you were a bully.
But I was…once.
It happened in grade school. I was in grade 6 and Lori was in grade 4. We lived in the same neighbourhood and went to the same school.
But that was it for what we had in common.
A nice summer afternoon, I was in no hurry to get home after school. The walk was about 20 minutes at a regular pace. But as I said, I was in no hurry so I made it a full 40 minutes by walking obnoxiously slow.
And blocking Lori from walking past me.
When she would try to walk to my left, I would take a step sideways and block her. When she tried to walk to my right, I would do the same.
She had no option but to walk behind me. And walk slow.
I did this for the entire walk. I relished in the power. I loved the control I felt over her. I liked that she had to oblige me or suffer the consequences.
But in my defense, I wonder if the obnoxious behaviour of my grade 6 self toward a grade 4 girl was a learned behaviour?
Two years earlier, I had experienced bullying at the hands of a group of older girls.
