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Everything seemed simple, relationships were whimsical. It all changed now XD Sometimes I wish I could people having crushes like they did in elementary school. Oh well.
I try not to remember my childhood. I survived it, now no need to go back. I rather be an adult with all the freedoms (as well as responsibilities) and not have to worry about some bigger guy who just has it out for me in my own home.
My childhood wasn't that great to be honest. I dealt with bullying that made me dislike everyone. Now, I'm very cynical because of that.
I have dealt with my shares of bullying. Been bullied by bigger chicks. I learned to tell my brothers, or fighting back HARD. Bullying magically stopped, yeah those bit*hes deserved it.
My childhood was ten thousand kinds of awesome. Crushes don't have very much to do with it, but I definitely look to my childhood as the gold standard. I hope I am able to have kids who also get the opportunity for such a cool childhood.
Re: bullying, I think that most people get bullied at some point. It sucks, but it's a reality of being human that there is a pecking order that will sometimes affect you. I was occasionally targeted by bullies as a kid, and I have been occasionally targeted by bullies in the form of superiors in the workplace as an adult. It's just life. Some people bully. You choose how you deal with it, respond to it (or not), and how you let it affect you.
I get that there is a difference between being aggressively targeted, abused, and harrassed for years and being regularly concerned for your safety and wellbeing, or being subjected to psychological warfare for large swaths of childhood, and, say, some kids being jerks to you a handful of times. But I really do think that most people who have dealt with occasional bullying ought to be able to function in society as adults, and not allow it to be this huge elephant in the room that affects major areas of their life years later. If it is, get your issues sorted out. It's your responsiblity as an adult.
I know someone who was teased (not assaulted, not harassed, not hazed...teased) as a high schooler, and who allows that to affect his life in huge and bizarre and emotionally unstable ways. At some point, take responsibility for your own mental health. If you're holding onto slights from high school well into adulthood, and allowing them to affect your adult life in significant ways, it says a lot about you, and what it says isn't great.
Not saying that anybody on this thread thus far IS this person. But, whenever the issue of bullying comes up, I feel compelled to point out that most everyone has been bullied, but not everyone lets it be a defining factor in their lives.
I have dealt with my shares of bullying. Been bullied by bigger chicks. I learned to tell my brothers, or fighting back HARD. Bullying magically stopped, yeah those bit*hes deserved it.
Touche' "those bit*hes deserved it". I was the big brother and no-body messed with my younger brother or sister (Other than me..jk). I remember some Fat kid pushing my little brother around in Jr HS. I cornered him behind a 7-11, took his bike from him and bent it into a pretzel. He was crying his eyes out and called me a bully..WTF
Then there was Pam, my first crush. Wonder where she is now?
Touche' "those bit*hes deserved it". I was the big brother and no-body messed with my younger brother or sister (Other than me..jk). I remember some Fat kid pushing my little brother around in Jr HS. I cornered him behind a 7-11, took his bike from him and bent it into a pretzel. He was crying his eyes out and called me a bully..WTF
Then there was Pam, my first crush. Wonder where she is now?
I have dealt with my shares of bullying. Been bullied by bigger chicks. I learned to tell my brothers, or fighting back HARD. Bullying magically stopped, yeah those bit*hes deserved it.
I actually had to punch a guy at my college who tried to bully me. He hasn'tbothered me since. Standing up for yourself really works.
I remember childhood with a great deal of warmth and pleasure, though it is the environment of my childhood that I gives me these feelings more than recollections of particular people or events. I grew up in a small town that was very prosperous, but was set in the midst of farming country. A creek that flowed through the countryside had been dammed in the village, and that gave it the appearance of being a large river in the center of town. Woods grew along its banks almost into Main Street, and wild meadows and woods were not more than five minutes from any neighbourhood. There was a tiny playground near the school, but only a very few small children went to it, most kids just played outside in the streets or the woods and fields, and our "playground" was a very old graveyard that ran behind our street.
The outdoors was everything...swimming, fishing, collecting bouquets of wild flowers for our mothers (the lack of enthusiasm for the lovely goldenrod seemed a bit ungrateful), there were all kinds of birds to be sighted, and small wild animals and bugs. Bugs did everything. They hopped out of your hand higher than all hell, they stung, they stunk, they rolled up, and the fuzzy-wuzzies tickled, caterpillars turned into beautiful butterflies if hatched in a jar...or very, very weird moths. Parents threw handfuls of seeds out onto the snow at breakfast time in the winter, and the backyard would become a buffet for incredible numbers of squawking and cheeping birds while we watched from the table.
From my neighbourhood we walked to down a street, across a gorgeous bridge that was an Italian renaissance copy and then along a path by the creek, with weeping willow trees that the flickers liked to perch in, and the path ended up near the primary school. In the winter the school principal would appeal to parents in my part of the village to make their kids walk to school down Main Street. The reason was that the Cinder Path that we took was not a street, just an unplowable creekside path...and grade school boys having two and three feet of snow to walk through - and roll around in, and throw at each other, and stomp a "trail" in - were about a half hour late for school after every snow storm. The creek froze in the winter, and we ice skated on it in the center of town, and at the end of our street there were steep slopes down to the creek and we used to toboggan and sled on them all winter.
And in the Spring we would start going up into the valley south of our county into the hill country to visit my grandmother, who lived in a village with gas lit street lights, and up into the hills where my aunt and her family had a farm with really thick woods and a swampy marsh...which meant all new animals, flowers and plants (like skunk cabbage), etc. And cows and playing in the hay mow. And stinky "cow pies" and "horse balls."
It was the Forties, sometimes we played "cowboys," but mostly we played "war" in the old cemetery. "War" was fun, and The War was everything to grownup, although it meant almost nothing to us kids...but it gave us the game we called "war." After a game of war in the cemetery, we would go to the pile where the caretakers threw all the old funeral wreathes and bouquets, and we would pull them apart to get the freshest flowers and take them home to our mothers. Like goldenrod, these gifts were mysteriously not appreciated. Ironically, I suppose after a game of "war" they were an appropriately grim offering. But we didn't know. Flowers were flowers.
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. Wonder where she is now?
