Myself in the Mirror

Maybe it's true what they say, that everyone made someone else's life miserable at some point during childhood school days. I wasn't a bully. On the contrary, I was the awkward one most of my growing up years.

I was getting my hair cut today and as I was sitting in the chair I started thinking about this kid whose life I made miserable on the playground when I was in 1st grade. I have no idea where the thought came from, absolutely nothing triggered it. Maybe my mind decided it was time to worry about something new, which would be typical. I don't think I'm comfortable unless I'm uncomfortably worrying about SOMETHING. If you know me, you realize this is pretty spot on.

I was in first grade at the private school I attended and for some reason I made this one kid in pre-k the target of mind control. I can't quite recall how it all started or how long it lasted. I know it didn't go on too terribly long, maybe about a month. Go figure, even in 1st grade my follow-through skills were kind of weak.

Either way, he was a sweet little kid who seemed overly innocent and probably kind of shy. You could tell just by looking at him. The school was small, about 24 children per grade, so recess was shared by several grade levels at a time and everyone knew one another. I want to say his name was Thomas and for whatever reason I started giving him shit one day. The funny thing is, I was the opposite of a bully, like I said. In fact, I was quite the "overly innocent and probably kind of shy" kid myself. I specifically recall the moment when I understood I had power over the situation. I honestly thought we were both sort of playing around at the beginning until I saw he was truly scared of me. I instantly felt awful inside at the thought of making someone feel bad and I saw qualities of myself in his innocence and fear. We were goofing off at the onset, I assumed, and I felt looked up to like an older student but now it hit me- he was terrified of me. The remorse feeling suddenly turned into something else, however. What started as just me being a dick one afternoon turned into a power trip when I realized that I was ACTUALLY making someone afraid. I was hooked on this power.

For the next several weeks, I forced this poor child to meet me on the playground so I could torment him for a few minutes until I got my fill. All I had to do was wave him over and he'd stop whatever playground activity he was doing and reluctantly make his way to where I was like a criminal approaching a firing squad, knowing there's no way out at this point. It surprised me.. why was someone OBEYING me? All I had to do was wave him over and he'd come?! I had control over something. I never laid a hand on him, of course, it wasn't a violent or creepy thing. Rather, I would just poke some fun at him and told him stupid 1st grade things like that I'd make him eat worms if he didn't stay under the monkey bars for the next ten minutes.

The odd thing is I wasn't mean to ANYONE, I was a nice kid. But something snapped when I understood that another person was actually afraid of me. ME of all people. I was supposed to be the one afraid of things. I was the soft one. If he had thrown dirt in my face and ran away to tell the teacher, I'd have been scared of HIM probably. I was afraid of far less, after all. I even made him cry a couple times. That is until I told him I'd make him eat worms if he didn't stop crying. It was like torture on a juvenile level, but still, it was a very real torment for this poor child. As I said, none of this went on for long. I wasn't a mean kid, but like all bullying, getting away with it the first time is what let it continue. I remember always feeling sort of bad but it felt nice to be revered.

One day while on the playground I called my best friend, Lewis, over as well. I recall feeling very stupid when Lewis gave me a sort of "what the fuck?" look when he saw that I found so much joy in picking on someone half my size. The details are fuzzy, it was years ago, but I think when asked if he'd like to join in Lewis said something along the lines of "... no thanks" and walked off. I stopped harassing the kid shortly after.

Fast forward to this afternoon, 2008: I had zoned out as I mulled over those 1st grade recess days. When I snapped back to present day and my vision focused again, I caught a glimpse of myself in the salon's mirror in front of me; a look of quasi-disgust on my face while my hair was being styled. I'm 27 now, that makes pre-k-kid around 24 probably. He may not even remember being picked on by me but I couldn't help but to feel horrible inside as I sat there thinking about it.

I was telling Jazmin about it later on and then I got an epiphany. I WAS the pre-k-kid. He was everything I was. Sweet, timid, obedient, easily swayed and sensitive. Qualities that, as I developed, I learned to hate about myself. Little boys weren't supposed to be sensitive. My guess is that this was brought to my attention right around the time I was in 1st grade so naturally it was a good idea to destroy that part of me, even if it meant destroying it in someone else. I was the pre-k-kid. I saw myself in him. It was wrong to be that way and therefore it was time to pay it forward and make someone else realize they needed to hate about them what I hated about me.

It makes me want to cry to think I could be such an asshole, even if it was for 3 weeks and I was 7. He probably doesn't even remember, but I hope he's doing alright these days, I wonder what happened to him.

I'm sorry pre-k-kid. I hope you didn't lose the sweet and the somewhat innocent parts of yourself. It wasn't until I was in my 20's that I realized that sweet, somewhat innocent and sensitive were qualities that are pretty special in such an otherwise harsh world. I hope no one, other than some jerk on the playground in 1986, ever preyed on those qualities or made you feel they weren't okay. I'm okay with me now, I hope you are okay with yourself, too.

M.db