Bullies: Who are they?

Bullies. That word, that personality, has bubbled up to the surface for everyone across nations. It’s been in the news, media, newspaper articles, blogs, everything. Everywhere. October is even National Bullying Prevention Month and October 9th is Unity Day. A bully is no longer isolated to grade school, being that obnoxious kid in second grade who we adults dismiss. A bully is everywhere. Bullies are there to taunt us at every phase of our life. How can they be everywhere, all the time? Because we are the bullies. They are us. She is me. Now I know what some of you are thinking, “I’ve never bullied anyone a day in my life!” But I’d ask you – “Have you never even said a negative comment against yourself, even when you’re home alone staring in the mirror?” If you are in fact the exception, then take this time to simply get a better understanding of who a bully is and why a bully exists.


A bully is tangled mess of fear and anger. A bully, until very recently, may not have even known she was a bully. My bully, Abby, was a 7 year-old girl. She was the younger daughter of a single mom who worked multiple jobs to put her two children through Catholic School. Abby was tall and slender but not unusually so for her age. She had friends. She got decent grades in school. It was only second grade after all. Basically, Abby didn’t want for anything. But one day, another girl in Abby’s class said something to Abby in a different language as Abby and her friend were walking to the girls’ bathroom. Abby’s friend, Isabel, was a bit shorter and heavier than Abby. She was the younger daughter of parents who were each in their second marriage with older children living elsewhere and so Isabel was treated as the only child for most of her life. Isabel also had friends and family and wanted for nothing.

So why then, when the girl spoke in a different language, did Abby convince Isabel that the girl said something bad about them and that the only natural result was for them to hurt her? This innocent little girl who couldn’t speak English was probably trying to make friends. Yet, somehow, Abby’s anger grew and she assumed that this child said something horrible and should therefore be hurt. Abby and Isabel started yelling at the little girl, pushed her up against the wall and started kicking her. The entire event was quick. Only a few moments. But I’m sure that other girl thought it lasted forever. She was a pretty little girl with black wavy hair that was tied up in a knot at the nape of her neck. She had large brown eyes with those butterfly eyelashes and that porcelain skin. So why? Why did Abby feel the need to attack her and bully her? What anger could a 7-year old have in her heart? Well…


By the age of 7, Abby’s father, whom she did not know well, died. And while this did not leave anger in Abby’s heart, it left a lot of anger and fear in Abby’s brother’s heart. As a result, Abby’s brother lashed out and abused Abby every day after school for months. Abby’s home was no longer safe. Her older brother would never become what all older brothers are meant to become – their sisters’ protector. Every day after school was something different. At the age of 7, Abby was thrown on concrete floors repeatedly, suffocated with large pillows, locked in trash cans, punched, slapped and kicked in the stomach, face and rest of her body. Abby would of course run but, whenever her brother called her back, she would return for fear that something worse would happen to her if she got him more angry. Abby did not tell her mother. One day, after being thrown on a concrete floor for several minutes, blood finally came pouring out of Abby’s mouth. Her front teeth were falling out now. You see, Abby’s brother wasn’t just throwing her onto concrete. Abby’s brother was lifting her over his head, like those WWF wrestlers do who are about to body slam someone, and well…he body slammed her on the concrete floor of the house. Abby’s brother somehow convinced her to stay silent and not tell their mother. Considering the mother wouldn’t come home until late, what else could Abby do? For at least 3 hours a day, she was always at the mercy of her brother. From the time they got out of school until their mother came home, Abby had no safe place to go. If you can remember your childhood and how time almost stood still, then you know that even just 3 hours could be a lifetime to a 7-year old child.

There was one evening when Abby told her mother that her brother would “play too rough” and explained how it would hurt. The only thing Abby’s mother suggested was that Abby simply go straight to her room after school and advised that she would speak to Abby’s brother about playing too rough. “Simply go straight to your room and don’t bother your brother”, she said? That wouldn’t stop him. Abby begged her mother to not say anything and agreed with her mother anyway that obeying the advise to go straight to her room would solve the problem. Until one day…

12 thoughts on “Bullies: Who are they?

  1. Strength.Love.Life., you are a good writer, and I like reading your work.
    I have seldom seen the word “whirlwind” written or even used….
    There are far too many things left unsaid, and this is a situation I have no experience in, although I know some of the same factors first-hand.
    I know 2 little boys that were Bullyed unmercifully for 17 years, one of these was the older Brother*, step-Brother. People knew what was going on, there were some who even acted, and I am referring to adults, they fanned the flames even higher.
    However, this didn’t make the 2 little boys go out and Bully, nor Abuse anyone.
    In all the Bullying experiences I can recall, there were always at the very least 1 adult involved in the first person, and any time it was school related, school personnel was involved.
    * Much later in life it came out that the older Brother had hung himself, the Grandmother had found him and saved him. That is when it came out that he had been molested.
    If I were on psychotropic drugs who knows, maybe I could Bully myself, but I am not. I am highly motivated, driven to be exact, so when I have much to do but a black cloud hanging over my mood is slowing production, I have been known to have some heartless pep-talks with myself. But I do want you to know that it’s not like I coined these words or phrases myself, they are just tidbits left over from days when pieces of crap Bullyed 2 little boys while a piece of crap step-Father beat the 2 little boys with a bull whip. But those days ended when I was 17-years-of-age.
    My Little Brother is a block and a half away, and still my best Friend.
    My 85-year-old step-Father is at the dining room table, I help take care of him, incidentally he is now at the point of forgetting at times and becoming agitated, which I reassure him that with all he has to do a person is bound to forget John Wayne’s last name sometimes, which draws a smile, then we take a deep breath together and move on with our day.
    In a world that has known almost no agape, very little storge or philia, only eros and the “GOOD” people that think only of preying on the weak, aged, women and children.
    There are still a few real human beings left that came together over 2 years ago as friends, most are Veterans that were traveling on this Boulevard of Broken Dreams. These caring people took those 2 little boys in because of like values, and the fact that we don’t turn a blind eye to any one….
    I live my life as it is given, one breath at a time…. we are happy and see all the beauty around us, which few people see,
    Robert Blackhorn StrongBow

    P,S. – Our Father crossed the river when we were young. The day I ceased being afraid of any man, I knew for sure of only 2 good men that I had ever known, My Father Big Eagle and my Uncle Frank who was my Father’s Uncle. My little Brother is named for Our Uncle, he is Frank Eagle StrongBow, he is also Co-Founder of Our sites, and he is the 3rd Good Man that I know.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for your comments and thoughts, Robert. And thank you for helping educate as many people as you can to end child abuse through your efforts in Not in My World. I think bullying is definitely a form of abuse and bullying is definitely a “crossroads” that many of us stop at on our journey here – where decide whether we will continue a life of abusing others versus not. It all comes from fear and feeling like you have no control. I can relate to that and I’m glad I made a different choice. Not everyone who is abused becomes an abuser in the same way, just like there are folks out there who abuse others; however, they themselves have never personally experienced abuse. Something else quite different could have caused the abusers’ fear, self-loathing or feeling of lack of control.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Strength.Love.Life. You are welcome, and Thank You so much!!!!
        I had thought about you this past weekend, and was intending on stopping back by.
        You know I had an odd thought that most probably some don’t see themselves as Bullys, because I know for a fact that there are those that believe they are better than most anyone else.
        Yes, Bullying is most definitely abuse. If you find the time, I did a post that looks at some of the violence today from a different perspective, I believe the name of the post is “The Whip”, and it speaks very plainly of my feelings toward the press.

        Liked by 1 person

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