Sometimes, media sensationalism gets it right! They bring focus to the social issues that is more worthy than Miss Lohan’s substance abuse. They get it right when they decidedly talk about things I want to talk about….. ME.
Jokes aside, teen suicide is not to be taken lightly. Campaigns like “It Gets Better” are worthwhile and noble. The Trevor Project is next to none in their efforts to make sure kids know that it will be alright. We as adults have the forethought and developed sense to inform the next generation: You are worth it. It is okay to be different. Just hang tight, kiddo.
And before I go on the hunt for these “bullies”, I set myself off to define what “bullying” is….. wikipedia and GO!.....
“Bullying is a form of abuse. It involves repeated acts over time attempting to create or enforce one group or person's power over another group or person, thus an "imbalance of power".[2] The "imbalance of power" may be social power and/or physical power. The victim of bullying is sometimes referred to as a target.”
So, I prepared to defend myself against the evil bullies. I wore my tightest pair of jeans, my biggest “fuck you” face, and I readied myself to defend with my David Barton toned physique. Meanwhile I noticed a guy, a femme guy, wearing a blazer that was entirely too small and puke green. So I called across the street to recommend to her a good tailor and/or Salvation Army.
I went to the clubs night to night to celebrate my pride in being a homosexual and not afraid of said bullies. I somehow noticed through the eardrum bursting house music that the demographic of The Ritz has become predominantly Asian. I thought to myself, what is this, the Web. So I burst out on to the street and said, “Fuck this, I don’t do sticky rice!” Glad to say, even through my rage, I saw no bullies in sight.
I settled into the Galaxy diner where I noticed a lonely tweaked out gay spooning gravy onto a plate of cheese fries. I was jealous, I leaned over to perhaps ask him to share, but instead I said in a drunken Shakespearean stupor, “french fries a boyfriend does not make.”
Well nourished and satisfied that my Bully Hunter instincts needed rest, I took a cab home. Just me, the smelly cab driver I deliberately tried to wave off because of his beard, and my bully self.
WAIT.
Oh my God. I’m a bully. I’m a gay bully.
INSERT PREACHY IRONY SECTION HERE.
America’s Next Top Model. The fighting on Real Housewives. Shows like The A-List anything. All my beloved TV programming….. They have been programming me to be a pudgy judgy pants. DANGIT.
And where does it stem from? I can tell teenagers all day long that they are going to be okay and it’s okay to be different and yet I am soulless in my disregard to the adult LGBTQ community. Where do I get off?
Self-pity. Self-loathing. Self-something. INTERNAL COMMUNITY BULLYING. Who am I to tell anyone else not to judge the labels that I identify with when I do so myself. I can’t help but think how disappointed I am in myself….. And when I wake up in the morning, habitually run to the mirror and pinch my rolls, I know now I bully myself. And well, I probably deserve it.
I can keep going but you get the point. The solution is…… LOVE. Do what you love. Spend time with the people you love. Talk about things you love and less about the things you don’t.
This is a comedy piece with lots of fiction (particularly the part about David Barton physique…..) but I’ve learned a very real lesson. If not for you then for me alone:
***I will begin to focus on the things I agree with. I will speak more about how to make self improvements before I even think about others. I need to guard myself from the biggest bully of them all……ME.***
So as a resolution from this point forward, I hope to do something only I have control of: Taking one more bully off the radar. One me at a time.
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