Freak.

I was incredibly forgetful yesterday, and therefore have no What I Ate Wednesday for you. I will tell you that I had another tomato that was seriously kissed by Mother Nature to be so sweet. I am going to fall into a deep, red depression when they run out at the store, and we’re back to shoddy, off-season tomatoes.

It’s ok though, because we have other things to talk about.

October, as everyone knows via pink everything everywhere is national breast cancer awareness month. I fully support this cause, not just because I have watched friends lose their mothers to this disease, but also because, as a bra wearing owner of a set of boobs myself, I am acutely aware of the implications.

However, it is also National Bullying Prevention Month.

I was bullied. A lot. I was bullied by kids who were sweet to me at church and then ripped into me at school, I was bullied by boys who thought it was fun to pick on an easy target. I was bullied by the kids down the street, and sometimes even, by my own teachers.

I was an easy target. I was outspoken and different. I was heavy and had a heavy dose of ADHD. I still march to my own drummer. I listened to show tunes when other kids were obsessing over N’Sync and Mariah Carey. I quoted “Star Wars” and Shakespeare instead of “Happy Gilmore”. (Though I could have, but I was contrarian and refused to.) I was a vegetarian. In a very religious school, I self-educated about AIDS and the problems affecting the gay community. More than once, I was asked why I’d want to hang out with faggots, since they were clearly unclean and damned. I was pro-choice, pro-birth control, and pro-sex ed. I loved the choir teacher that other students hated, no matter how tenuous our relationship could be…(I had a tendency to talk in class…) Simply put, I was different. 

This is what the assholes who thought it easier to be mean than understanding claimed as the impetus for calling me “gargantuan” or “nightmare girl”. The girls were more subtle. Once, someone did write freak in the gym teacher’s attendance book beside my name, but for the most part, it was mostly how they chose to ignore me. The obvious, trying not to seem obvious chatter. The intentional snubs, the overly planned, feigned knee-jerk reactions to my presence.

The saddest part is that I am now friends with some of these people on FB, (no, I don’t know why either) and I can tell they have not changed. Sadder yet, is that the likelihood that their kids will be bullies as well, is seemingly very high.

Fortunately, there is a lot we can do. We, can choose to live by example and not show our children that it’s ok to be that way. We can educate them that being kind is what is important, and that a part of being kind is standing up for those who are being bullied. We can help by insisting that complaints of bullying in school are taken seriously. We can support legislation to help stop bullying. We can be the ones who speak up for those who are too afraid to speak for themselves.

We can love

We can accept, and not simply tolerate our differences.

We can celebrate what makes us all unique.

We can teach our children to celebrate what makes them who they are, and what makes others whom they are.

Today you are you, that’s truer than true, there’s no one alive who’s more youer than you.- Dr Seuss

Go here and find out how you can help end bullying.

Now, violence isn’t the answer to bullying, and you can’t just kick the bullies in the balls, so why don’t you make some instead? Healthy ones to insure you outlive the bullies.

Peanut and Apple Butter Protein Balls. ( I used this recipe for apple butter, you should too.)