girls (and boys) hating girls

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair.

Persecuted, but not forsaken. Cast down, but not destroyed.

2 Corinthians 4: 8-9

I wasn't a popular kid growing up.

I didn't fit in – I was always a little heavier, with frizzy hair, bad teeth and awful clothes. I hated gym with a passion, but loved learning; I turned in all my assignments on time, favoured writing over running and books over boys.

Not that it mattered either way: boys weren't interested in me and girls spent most of their time teasing me - sometimes to my face, often behind my back. When we passed the age where you had to invite everyone in the class to your birthday party because you parents said so, the invites stopped coming. It was OK, though. I had a couple friends, I was confident in my skills and strengths and whenever I found myself feeling down, I'd remind myself it was all temporary anyway. That eventually, it wasn't going to matter. I just had to be patient. 

I left home when I was 14, a decision made to escape a situation that had escalated, passing the point of no return, and that confidence only grew stronger. Away from the fear of a home situation gone sour, I became more extroverted, more self-assured and although the typical teenage girl concerns weren't lost on me (so...boy problems) I felt stable. Less worried about what others thought or said about me. More in control of my life and more equipped to deal with the criticisms of others. I knew where I was going in life and chose to focus on the destination, rather than the bumps along the way.

Was I bullied? At one point, I would have said 'absolutely' then launched into a spiel about how life gets better, how the hurt is temporary and how it won't matter later. Those things would be said with total conviction and certainty because my own experience tells me it's possible to overcome it all. I mean, I pulled it off, right? 

Well, I'm not so sure.

Because here's the thing: bullying was different when I was a kid. I grew up in the 1990s-early 2000s. I remember dial-up Internet, passing hand written notes folded in the most unnecessarily complicated way and when talking to friends on the phone meant stretching the phone cord from the kitchen to the living room for privacy. 

We didn't text and Facebook wasn't a thing. MSN complicated the battlefield later in life (passive aggressive display names, anyone?) but much of my elementary and middle school years, bullying stuck pretty close to its definition and, for lack of a better word, it was a lot more innocent. It's strange to use those two words together in a sentence - bullying and innocent - but what I mean is it was different. It was fists, insults hurled across the classroom and being excluded.

It wasn't all done behind a screen and it certainly wasn't any of the absolute insanity we've been seeing lately, especially when it comes to girls. As a public, we react to each case with shock and horror and surprise and I think everyone is starting to wonder the same thing: how did we end up in this place, where girls hate girls and boys hate girls, and how do we get away from it.

Don't get me wrong - girls aren't the only ones who deal with instances of bullying. We did several stories last year about a local high school student who ultimately left the province because he was being bullied by a former girlfriend. Girls are just as capable of bullying boys. Boys bully boys. The roles of perpetrator and victim aren't assigned on the basis of gender.

But between Amanda Todd, Audrie Pott and now, Rehtaeh Parsons...these horrific stories seem to be coming up all the time lately. And that's a tough thing to process. 

These three girls were abused and taken advantage of; they were disrespected, used and devalued by boys and then, adding insult to injury, rejected entirely by their peers. They were disappointed, let down and left alone to fall.

They didn't even make it to 20 years old. How devastating is that?

And yet, while the whole world watches and mourns and wonders how we ended up here, there are people who will be callous and mean spirited enough to suggest the girls were somehow at fault. For every 10 mourners on Amanda Todd's Facebook memorial page, there was at least one person saying she had it coming. Whether or not it was just someone "trolling" doesn't matter - what does matter is that we've somehow ended up in a place where someone can even THINK that would be an appropriate response. 

And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.

Ephesians 4:32 

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How did we end up in a place where we've forgotten one of the most basic instructions we've been given: to be kind of one another? What do we need to do to revive compassion and love and caring in a world where those things are in short supply and desperately needed? 

I wish I had an answer to that one but I don't.
So I keep reading, keep informing myself about what's happening in the world around me.

I keep looking for little ways to show tenderness, whether it's giving my time to a friend in need, giving the last of my pay cheque to charity or giving a home to a helpless feline who wouldn't survive in the wild (I love Lyla, but she's kind of dumb).
I keep looking for ways to be a better example and walk my talk. 
And I keep praying.