In life, we meet many obstacles and challenges that change who we are. Sometimes, the greatest challenge or obstacle we need to or will face is with ourselves. I have seen movies and read books where the protagonist had to face himself orherself to reach happiness and stated that it is ourselves who usually hinder our growth. I never would have thought that this would apply to me unil I started a Christian School.
I was once bullied. I was a new student at a Christan private school where kindness and "love thy neighbour as thyself" are preached and spread around like law (Romans 13:9). I entered as a chubby, bossy and prideful child or you could say, a spoiled and happy apple in my parents' eye; however, as the whispers and rumors filled the air around the school, I quickly learned the cruelty of others and I changed.
On the fourth day of the first week in September, one of my worst memories and the start of everything began. That terrible day was accompanied by a cool breezy but sunny weather, seemingly mocking me as the day went on. The bell had rung and the whole class, with the sweaty boys and the girls with too much make-up on, were standing outside the heavy black door, waiting for our teacher to let us in. The heavy door opened with a groan as if it was under great stress. A strict blond woman then strolled out and motioned us one by one to walk through the doorway while checking off our names on her ratty clipboard. I felt as if we were prisoners, chained with unbreakable bonds, marching off into the gallows. I stood at the end of the line, waiting for the call of my death, but I was calm for a presence of lavender and home stood strong with me. My mother was this angel's name. She was angry, though, for the reason that I did not complete my homework because I left it at school which I had never done before. I was acting as submissive as a wolf would be to his alpha when the last of my classmates went through the door. Then came a moment as if it was in a movie when the blond woman, my teacher at this time, connected with my eyes where the wind calmed and the birds stopped singing. Perhaps, others could call this as when time seemed to have stood still.
Right after that moment of what I felt like was for hours, my mother began to talk. She talked long and determined as if there was no end to my mistake. I drifted off into my own world to try to escape reality as I stared at my teacher's feathery blond hair as it glistened when the sun shone upon it. When she stopped, all was quiet for about a minute. Then I was brought back to life when the teacher's lips pursed together and her serene face now turned into a scorned banshee. I got detention she stated. Grudgingly, I turned towards my mother for a hug and goodbye. Her scent of lavender and home calmed me once more and filled me with courage to see this day through. So, I bravely took steps towards the bland, gray walls of the school which were looking more and more like a juvenile prison or the rumored detention halls. The air seemed tense as my teacher walked along side with me, up the stairs. As I stopped to change out of my soiled, brown shoes into white flats, I glanced at my teacher who happened to look like a hawk waiting for her prey and a perfect chance to swoop in. Yet the moment was still peaceful, but even that peace did not stop me from sweating into the cool air as we entered the classroom.
As the bell had already rung, every student in the class was in their stairs, ready to start. When the teacher and I walked in, all heads turned and I felt like I was a special display at a circus. Gingerly, I hooked up my backpack and prepared myself for the day. At this time, the teacher stood at the front of the class and called me up. She then started to ramble with a huff about students keeping up and priorities. She asked the now inquisitive and curious class who did their homework and all hands raised up. By this time, I was sweating uncontrollably once more and my stomach felt like several weights had been dropped down onto it.
When I focused back to the classroom, I realized the teacher looked at me with a glint in her eyes. She then said, "Now here is a student who has not done her share of the work. Do you happen to know what the consequence is, Kitty?"
It was a rhetorical question, I realized, so I dropped my gaze down and postured myself submissively, preparing for another lecture I happen to garner onto myself once more. The woman in formal attire, who I truly believed was the devil in disguise, turned to the class and ignored me for the time being. She then continued on to state the consequences which I felt were unnecessary to repeat over and over as the class probably had heard this speech a billion times by now. As she finished off her rant, I was released back towards my seat. When I went to sit back down, I felt millions of eyes staring me down as if I was an inferior insect that deserved nothing but death.
That day, I was relentlessly mocked, teased and put down. Unlike boys, who beat each other up, girls tended to use a tactic of the mind to break me down. I felt like an animal raised in a glass cage where others could see of my humiliation and spit on me as if I was a spit bucket. For the next three years, the situation continued as I endured more belittling, ignorance and exclusion. Those three years, I had felt like I was in jail, paying for invisible crimes, as a freak of nature, or as a pet raised for the sole reason of venting of anger and frustration. These years had twisted and molded me into a child with extreme low self-esteem and bottles of explosive hatred, ready to expand as incidents continued to be collected or ready to blow as even one wrong phrase was uttered. At times, I wanted to lashed out to my tormentors but I knew, resistance was futile as it just gave them more incentive to hurt me like I had no feelings or I was not a human being at all.
In these three years, I had turned from an arrogant apple in my parents' eyes to a fearful, untrusting child. I grew with hatred, believing in all my misfortunes stemmed from those "beatings" I had taken. I began to see my life wilt in my mind and my will to survive deteriorate. I had also quickly feel into depression as I entered high school but I knew, I wouldn't even survive backstabbing words or misunderstood sentences from ignorant teenagers. So, I made masks. From an optimistic and always happy friend to a polite but shy girl, I constructed and used more than five masks. It always hurt to view myself as I used these masks and know I would never have the courage to be like them; however, instead of seeing myself as a coward, I placed all blame towards my tormentors.
Then, it seemed as if angels came for me. Maturity and support came along and picked me up. They showered me with brilliant words and a beam to support my growth. It was hard enough going on a journey, knowing I had to forgive but I persevered. Yet, I forgot to take into account that my greatest obstacle was not to forgive but to recognize who I was. My greatest challenge turned to be facing myself.
Through the paths I chose to take and through the thorns and vines I had to cut through, I knew that it was my fault for turning out the way I was. It was hard, extremely hard, to unravel my inner self and shine it with light to be rid of the darkness. I fell many times as bruises and scratches appeared upon my body as a reward, but I continued on the path of healing. Lessons I have learned through this journey have molded me into someone that sees things with a different perspective.
People have to face themselves as an obstacle at least one time in their lives because most often, it is us who place a wall of defense to lessen the hurt of others. This wall of defense becomes a part of life we have to face to get over the problem or the pain. Yet, when we battle ourselves, we are hurt the most because we know what our weaknesses are. But we have to move past this wall to be the person we could be. In the end, the battle that needs to be won, or the war that needs to overcome is the one with ourselves. Without winning, we will never be able to move on; however, there will be many times we lose but the power is in us to fight it again because we are the ones that can have the courage to be ourselves.
