How to Love a Bully
Bullying has become so prevalent in our culture it’s almost impossible to escape on social media. It’s one of Trump’s most conspicuous tactics but it’s probably been happening for millennia, just largely out of sight (thanks, internet).
The bully’s sly hissing seems to be slithering, more and more, into print and video journalism. Its destructive off-gassing seeps out of cracks in the sacred ground of friendship and family.
We have become a nation of bullies.
“Oh no, not me,” you may be saying…but hold on. How quickly do you jump into a social media debate to quash an opposing perspective with a subtle (or not so) dismissiveness? How easy is it to let the inner-critic rip — quietly, inside our own head, or out loud in public — belittling someone’s offering? How kind are we really being, in the sum of our days and nights, to ourselves and to each other?
Last summer, I realized that I had been born into a family of bullies. I could see how my father had bullied my mother, and my older brother and sister; how they had bullied each other, and later, me and my little brother, too (the gnarled roots go back generations, no doubt). Sometimes it came out as patronizing — as if we were simply dumb and needed to be educated. Sometimes it came out with a laugh and a seemingly playful (but in reality) painful poke. It was clearly in full swing on the side of the road, as my Dad’s thick, hippie belt came down on my older brother’s bare butt.
Immature anger and (thankfully, low-grade) nonphysical abuse carved a river of sadness through my childhood. Like un-cried tears, that water became an emotional swamp for my soul, draining my energy and mooring me in a diffuse sadness—and away from a fully engaged life. The truth is I am just now, at 52, pulling myself out of the muddy waters of psychological bullying.
My father, I fear, has decided to plant himself in that mud. After decades of him sending me hateful emails (despite my repeated requests to stop), I finally, against my deepest wishes, blocked my father from my inbox. I pray it’s only temporary: I still believe I can build a bridge across that perilous swamp, reaching his tender, troubled heart. I still love him, and I want to have an honest and honorable relationship with him before he dies. That’s going to take a lot of work…and I’m not sure if he’s willing to do his part. But that’s ok, I can love him from a distance.
I’ve learned that boundaries are the necessary distance from which you need to love someone.
Since the lights went up on bullying in my life, I have been astonished by the prevalence of bullying around me.
My best friend’s seven-year-old boy has been bullied in his private school in the Cotswolds since kindergarten. Although she’s talked to the teachers, they haven’t been able to stop it because the other boy mostly bullies her son out of sight. A high-school junior (the girlfriend of a friend’s son) had to change her name and move to another school district because a pack of girls bullied her so badly she wanted to take her own life.
Then there are the subtle ways we “grown-ups” poke and piss on each other: the condescending tone of voice, the emasculating questions, the spiritual sideswipes, even the “ghosting.” (Ignoring someone can be a highly effective form of bullying because it makes it seem like you don’t even exist.)
The truth is it’s actually really easy to slip into bullying, and I bet most of us engage in it more than we realize.
“I don’t know when we began to celebrate bullies instead of looking out for people who care for other people,” President Obama said at a recent rally.[1] But we all know the answer, at least officially: the 2016 presidential election.
That’s why Trump’s win was so devastating to so many of us. We witnessed the highest office in the land be usurped by a man who proudly bullies everyone — the press, his opponents, women, even other countries — stirring up a noxious sea of hatred and setting it aflame with deceit.
So why learn to love a bully, when everything in us may want to hate him? Because hate only pours fuel on a bully’s fire. And hate isn’t going to set any of us free from that unholy blaze.
Ironically, the word bully originated in the 1500s as a term for sweetheart (from the Middle High German buole “brother,” and German Buhle “lover”). As some words (and, thankfully, confidants) do, it flipped and came to denote a “harasser of the weak” a century later.[2] This etymology reflects a way out.
The best way to escape the painful mental and emotional prisons built by bullies is to take our power back. For me, that meant finally putting into action the advice of a therapist I had as a young woman. She wisely told me, “Anger is a sign that something needs to change.”
I can’t change my Dad but I can change how I relate with him. I had to fully own my anger to block him from my inbox, and that’s made all the difference for my peace of mind. I was surprised to find that it also softened my heart towards him.
Hatred is twisted and immature anger, stuck in an endless cycle of shame and blame. But in the light that comes from the pure flame of anger, we can chart a new course and harness it for good. That way, this much-maligned, “negative” emotion becomes the necessary fuel to usher in a more just world.
We’ve also got to get creative. My friend’s little boy said the funny thing was, his bully used to be a really good artist. A smile crept across his troubled face as he told me that, one day, he just walked away and drew his bully’s face on a chicken’s body. So I encouraged him to let his love of drawing trump that boy’s cruel behavior.
Letting our creative juices flow, and the full range of our emotions to responsibly guide us, allows us to depose the bully and reclaim our power. Then, after we’ve tended to our own wounds (which bullies often pour salt in by denying they’ve ever hurt us) we can stand up, confront them or simply walk away. We can say, “No.” No to hate. No to shame. No to disappearing. And most importantly, No to giving in or giving up.
When we tap our power, we can return to love.
We can love ourselves so much that we don’t allow the forces of hate, however justified, to set up home in our hearts. We can love justice and democracy and our rights as a free people to actually vote, ensuring that this great democratic experiment — once a beacon of truth and liberty for all humanity — shines on through the decades. We can do better than hate. We can educate.
The undeniable authority of truth, like the taste of fresh, clear water, is the only way to satiate a thirsty intelligence. In a world of fake news, in a country presided over by a president who utters falsehoods about every 19 words,[3] digging deep on shared ground to find the streams of truth has never been more challenging.
My father used to remind us kids, “There are no absolutes, few certainties and much about which we know nothing.” I’m not sure about that but I do know this: the human heart has withstood the stomping of millions of petty and powerful tyrants. Our Spirit has not been broken by thousands of false priests, snaking through the centuries, turning what is most sacred (the Spirit in flesh) into what is most base (sexual abuse).
Ultimately, bullies never win because, in the long run, they bankrupt themselves.
With incredible privilege, we find ourselves here, now. Where the power to shape our lives and our world closer to our hearts’ desires is within reach in each and every one of us.
I can love my father several states away from his troubled swamp fire. We can take the Trump Administration to court at every step, preventing it from destroying a democracy which is based on this truth: That every one of us — Black, Immigrant, Muslim or Jew; whether we identify as man, woman or anywhere in between — we are all created as equals. And in this country, that is supposed to mean we are all born free.
No matter what may come, I have the freedom and the power to be me.
So how do you love a bully? By realizing that love is far more powerful than hate.
And that’s why I’m voting this Tuesday as if everything I hold dear depends on it—because it does.
[1] https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/barack-obama-midterm-elections-trump_us_5b9b072fe4b013b0977905bc
[2] https://www.etymonline.com/word/bully
[3] https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/politics/trump-claims-database/?fbclid=IwAR3HQJLpOegqNlwje2koJ0OH2wghLD8dRBOv6MwUA1UJvC-SXvAb3WW6qmQ&utm_term=.0b2bd79c602a
