My first bullying experience was in Kindergarten. My hair was a mess and my little hands were very chapped and held onto any and all dirt making them appear never washed. I was born in January one year and my little sister was born in December of the same year. This made us "Irish Twins" and we were raised and dressed alike. No one ever seen one of us without the other. One tragic day, my little sister caught her dress on fire by getting too close to the water heater in the basement. My best friend died that night. I witnessed her running through the house engulfed in flames. From that time on, I was not always attended to because due to our likenesses, everyone showed pain when I appeared in their presence. I was a reminder. I used to hide in the "closet" as it felt safe. My parents were so distraught and there was no therapy to help with such trauma in those days. I never felt accepted by my peers and I always felt like I never fit in with any of my classmates. One day to get even with a girl that I wanted for a friend so bad, I used chalk and wrote her middle name all over the sidewalk on my way home. She had an Irish surname for a middle name and her mother called my mom to complain. That, I believe was how I bullied back and I have never forgotten how horrible I felt for doing that. Bullying hurts so bad and I know when you do the bullying, you dislike yourself more, afterwards, so it is a never ending vicious circle. I have 12 grandkids and 10 great grandkids and I want to do all that I can to stop the bullying. I know some of my sweet grandkids have been bullied. That breaks my heart. It needs to stop....NOW!
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