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Depending on where you look for a reference—the percentage of people who have felt like a victim at least once in their life is pretty high. Let’s face it; people will give sympathy to others who are feeling traumatized. Rightfully, so… they may have experienced an illness, injury or were traumatized by events in their lives. It can be pretty easy to feel compassion for others when they are suffering. I remember my early childhood days living in Northern Florida. At seven years old, I was uprooted from Fort Lauderdale, Florida to be planted in a small town that had only one stop light. Imagine moving from a big city to the country! I was replacing concrete sidewalks for long winding red clay dirt roads.
I felt like a fish out of water. I was also shy as a child. As I would walk to school on the red clay road to the bus stop, I would see two stoned teenagers peek their heads out of an old dingy white, single wide trailer. They would yell obscenities to me as I walked by their property. I never learned if those girls graduated from high school—they were always stoned on some substance, unknown to me.
When I arrived at the bus stop, I would see the country school bus rumbling down the highway, with an elderly lady driving it. The doors would slowly open to the school bus, and I would sheepishly walk up the steps and look for a friendly face to sit next to on the bus. However, I seldom found that familiar face. Often, the gray-haired lady bus driver would take off driving down the highway before someone would move over for me. At seven years old, it feels like the world is against you when the other children are indifferent to you.
On one occasion, a young boy moved over, but only enough that half my butt cheeks could rest on the bus seat. I prayed I would not fall off the seat and sent up prayers that the school bus would get me to the school as quickly as possible. My county was one of the poorest counties in the state of Florida. Years later, I would ask my family why we moved to a small country town that seemed to offer so little to its inhabitants. The answer I received was that my Father wanted to live close to one of his friends.
When you are an introvert, it can difficult to speak your truth and speak up for others. Being bullied because I did not “fit in” seemed so unfair. I did learn how to ride horses and build tree forts, which I probably would not experience living back in Fort Lauderdale. The moment of personal power escalates when you don’t have to label yourself a victim. Years of personal growth, training, and some spectacular mentors prompted me to love myself more and to set healthy boundaries with everyone in my life.
Today, I would not be doing the work I am if I had not experienced some very challenging times where I was bullied and mistreated. It could have been so easy to continually think I was a victim when so many times I was treated with disrespect. However, I look at all my life’s experiences, and I am so grateful that my journey led me to do the work I do today. If my life had been easy, I might have chosen a different path.
People trust others who are relatable and have experienced similar traumatic events. I do look back at my life—to compare the growth and wisdom I have gained over the decades. I smile today, and no one can wipe that smile off my face! I own my story, instead of my story owning me.
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Photo courtesy Unsplash.