(Warning: This is long, very personal, and rather important to Ceej especially. Posting this isn’t easy, and I need to make it clear I’m not looking for attention or sympathy or anything – it’s just something I need to let go of. That said, it may be interesting to you if you want to understand the Ceej just a little bit more. Just sayin’.)
A triggered overreaction in conversation with a friend catapulted this into being. It’s something I’ve been chewing on in small pieces in the back of my mind for months now, meaning to write about it but it just didn’t feel right. I could never make the words work. It hurt too much. But it’s necessary I push past that. I’ve held onto it for too long and need to get it out into the world so I can let go.
If you’ve ever wondered why I’m so jumpy about sexism and gender issues, here’s your answer. It’s also a good amount of why my self-image, -esteem and -worth were so low for so long. So here goes.
Alright, gather around children, it’s Mama Dragon’s storytime.
When I was a young teenager, I was bullied.
Mercilessly.
By one person who thought it was the greatest thing in the world to constantly belittle me for being a female in a place that mostly males hung out at.
It’s only recently I’ve come to realize that bullying is indeed what went on.
This was back at my local card shop, before and during my time as Pokemon League Leader. I was one of maybe three females that frequented the store. My particular group of peers was one made up of a somewhat fluctuating number of young men, five to seven of them depending on the day and what point in the story (one of the group left to join the Army halfway through – the only one who ever stood up for me until near the end of the experience). From the age of thirteen when I joined this group right up to sixteen when I left for college, it was as though I had a target painted on my forehead.
I was constantly, enduringly, never-endingly made fun of for the state of being a woman.
“You don’t belong here; go be in the kitchen and cook something”
“All women are like ______ so OBVIOUSLY you are like that”
“All women do ______ so OBVIOUSLY you do it”
“Women can’t do ______ so stop trying”
On and on and on.
And you know what happened when I wasn’t being gnashed at for being a woman?
It was insisted that I must be a man. There was no other explanation!
Because I WAS able to do those “women-can’t-do-this”es, or I didn’t do “this-typically-female-activity”, or I didn’t always behave like the culturally accepted female. I played cards with a bunch of men so clearly I was a man as well.
So on, so forth.
It even went so far as to refer to me with male pronouns on several occasions. Because I couldn’t possibly be a woman, not doing what I was doing.
A short tangent for necessary context: It may surprise you that this portion bothered me so much, because my stance on gender roles has always been the same – they’re a social construct. They don’t exist outside of their culture. Biological sex has very little to nothing to do with one’s gender, and more where one feels like they fit within the social construct of gender, or do not fit within that narrow box. I feel as though that construct is damaging to society because it forces people into roles they may not want to take.
Case in point: I was extremely uncomfortable with them forcibly warping their interpretation of my gender into their perceived-necessary roles because it was a violation of who I was and what I could choose to do with my time. By taking away my female pronouns and insisting that I must be a man, it felt as though my right to be who I am and do what I want to do regardless of the role culture gave to me was taken away from me. I have so much sympathy for the transgendered community because of this – I can’t imagine what it must be like to have that happen to you every day, by every person you meet, just because of your biological sex. But I digress.
I asked this person to stop. Repeatedly. I can’t recall if I went into any detail about why this sexist treatment bothered me, because I’m not sure I understood why it bothered me so much at the time. But I would still ask for a cease and desist.
And it would work for about half an hour. Maybe the rest of the day, if I was really lucky.
And then it would just start up all over again.
In hindsight, I know it was intended in jest. Fun. Teasing among friends. This person played the ass to everyone else in the group too, though by virtue of them all being cisgendered males in a traditionally male setting, there was never reason to bring up gender. I was a target because I was a woman in a group of young men doing “guy things” and, I am assuming, he didn’t know how else to deal with that. So he picked at my gender.
But intent does not negate effect, and ignoring the person being hurt by what you say when they ask you to stop, or refusing to at least explain why you’re being an ass, is inexcusable.
And that wasn’t the only thing he bullied me for. He bullied me for my weight, too.
At the time I was about 5’2”-5’3” and 180 pounds (to my current 5’4” and 190 – such a change, I know). I remember very distinctly how one day, in a passive-aggressive attempt to get the message across since directly asking him to stop didn’t work, I had worn a stars-and-planets-on-it blue t-shirt that read “Go away! Get off my planet!”
His immediate response upon reading this shirt was “Get off my planet? Lady, you’re big enough to BE a planet.”
(I hate wearing that t-shirt to this day.)
One other notable occasion was on the subject of conventions and cosplay(costume-play; dressing up). I mentioned that I wanted to cosplay Colette Brunel, a character from one of my favorite video games.
His reply was to look at me with an incredulous look on his face and say “Man, you’ll be the biggest Colette I’ve ever seen.”
My mumbled reply of “I’m… working on it” was simply met with a “Well work harder!”, which did wonders for my physical self-image, let me tell you.
(I still haven’t made plans to put together that cosplay, by the way.)
Those were not isolated incidents, but they are two specific cases that are burned into my memory with a red-hot iron.
–
You might ask why it took me so long to leave.
The answer’s pretty simple: I didn’t know any better. I thought this was normal and I deserved every minute of it.
I didn’t have any other regular peer groups for a long time, by my own choosing before you jump to ‘homeschoolers are undersocialized’ (I am too much of an introvert to really desire more interaction than what I was getting, and nothing else interested me until very close to the end of the tale). I had karate peers, yes, but that was specific interaction for a short time once a week. I was with this group multiple times a week for several hours at a time doing nothing in particular except playing card games with lots of table banter.
This being my only peer group, I thought it was NORMAL to be treated like dirt. I had no other point of reference. My parents loved and supported me just the same through all of it, but I think they were such constants that I took them for granted. No particular idea why they put up with me except necessity. Habit. I was their child, what else were they going to do? I had Caitlin, sure, but she was half a country away and we were young and not properly intertwined yet – she only helped when I was actively talking to her.
Eventually, I got sick of feeling bad. So I stopped feeling anything at all. I shoved everything I could away, and when it forced itself to the surface, everything manifested in tears.
Show no emotion, and it can destroy your soul.
It was just as horrible in the long run.
Finally, I gained another regular peer group – a friend at karate invited me to his house for a party, and I became a regular visitor very quickly. I made new friends despite my shyness and lack of self-worth and they showed me that it’s NOT normal to be treated in subhuman ways by nonfamily. I began to object more to what was going on and avoided the person who did all this to me. Who I allowed to do all this to me.
Other members of the group noticed, too, and started standing up for me a little more in the stead of the one who had left to find his Great Perhaps. It was nice. But it wasn’t enough.
I didn’t begin to heal until I stopped going to the card games entirely in favor of focusing on my college endeavors.
Free of that environment, I was able to breathe for the first time. I thought, and I worked, and I began to fly.
It’s been four years since then. I’ve gone through so much since then. I know who I am now, and while I still have to be reminded occasionally of why I’m worth it, it’s not often anymore I have truly crippling problems with self-esteem. My intent is to keep it that way. I have an amazing network of friends and family that don’t let me forget any of why I am amazing. I don’t take my parents’ support for granted anymore. And I won’t let anyone take that away from me, least of all myself.
And now?
Now I soar.
xx~Ceej
(Some special thanks and a footnote:
Koda, for unwittingly pushing me into doing this thing I’ve needed to do for months. I’m sorry I sort of bit your head off.
The Wilcox clan and associates, for first showing me I was worth it.
The people I actually consider friends from those days, who will remain nameless unless they wish to be properly acknowledged – for being real friends and standing up for me when I needed it, even if it was a little late in a few cases. I still miss you guys, but I can’t even walk into that building without feeling bad. The aura of the memories just doesn’t work for me. If y’all still play and can find a different place to play Munchkin once in a while, drop me a line.
And to the person who did all this bullying: I don’t hate you. You aren’t a monster, you were just immature. Very immature. I hope you’ve grown up and know how to interact with people without belittling them now. I don’t particularly need or want to talk to you about any of this, but I won’t shut you out if you want to talk.)
Caitlin
Ceej
