The Christian music industry has a lot to say about bullying. "Mean Girls" by pop artist Leanna Crawford speaks directly to the pain caused by bullying and the power of words—and that our worth is found in God. "Gold" by pop musician Britt Nicole reminds listeners that they are valuable and loved, even when bullies try to make them feel worthless.
Veteran contemporary band MercyMe has two songs. “Greater” declares that God is greater than any hurt or pain, including the pain caused by bullying. “Dear Younger Me” chokes me up the most. The song serves as a personal letter from the singer to himself, offering guidance and reassurance in the face of struggles and mistakes, mainly related to bullying. It emphasizes grace, forgiveness, and the idea that past actions do not define your identity and worth but by a more profound spiritual truth.
“Dear Younger Me” takes me back to when I was severely bullied. “Simon” by the rock band Lifehouse is my bully anthem. Every word from beginning to end walks with victims of bullying (read lyrics and watch video below this story).
When I was a kid, I was always the outsider. Children always teased me for the way I looked, the way I acted, and the way I talked. And playing the victim, I always gave in to their mindless taunts. I should’ve fought back. I should’ve stood my ground. Well, it’s a little late to give these old self-doubts at my age.
Grade 3 was my worst year. Daily, I feared the schoolyard. Some nights, I came home crying because of what they said or did. Most of my aches and pains came from class, though. Three kids. Their full-time job was finding new and creative ways of making my life miserable. Their workshops were after hours when I was getting off the school bus. The bully trio usually hid in a nicely hidden drive away on Spruce Street. The property was sited next to a creek. Countless trees were separating the stream from the house. Neatly trimmed bushes surrounded the front yard of the house itself. This meant the property was very private, even from the owners who inhabited it.
The bully trio loved to use this property for their sneak attacks. They’d hide there and wait until I passed by, and then they’d pounce. It was their bully trap. The bully trap was only two minutes from the bus stop, so I’d either run past it or take another route home to avoid it. One way was the direct ten-minute route on Spruce Street to Douglas Crescent or the not-so-desirable longer route.
Sometimes, I walked home with my best friend, Jamie. He was the only friend I had. He was singled out, too, for being different. But usually, he received the special routine name-calling. I got the full bully battery package with all the beatings. Because of the bully trap, Jamie and I had devised an alternative route to get home. The quick route through Spruce Street to Douglas was usually very dangerous.
The other route was on Main Street, where the bus drops us off. We walked along Main Street until we passed Dr. Green’s office and turned on the road next to it. The walk home on this route was much longer but a lot safer. When the bullies figured out we used this route, they devised several traps, but only sporadically.
Today, I wanted to take the long way. My gut didn’t feel right about the direct route, and I was in no mood to deal with the three stooges, but Jamie insisted we walk the short way. He said we’d run as fast as possible if we met up with them. I agreed. We started on Spruce, walking briskly on the opposite side to avoid the bully trap. Usually, when the bullies jumped out, I’d dart every which way and slither past them with less than a narrow escape. I wouldn’t be so lucky today.
Jamie and I passed the bully trap, looking back over our shoulders constantly to be sure they weren’t jumping out of nowhere. Soon, the tension subsided, and we brought our speed to a moderate pace. My thoughts were now of home. I usually never felt completely safe until I was in my cozy house. Jamie jerked suddenly and started to run. I heard screaming, spun around, and quickly began to run. The bullies had submerged themselves in their holes and started the routine chase. My daring escape was suddenly brought to a halt. Jamie grabbed my collar and held me until the dogs arrived.
The bullies caught up and dragged me into their bully hole. I never said anything. I couldn’t say anything. What would I do? What could I do? I wanted to be home. I wanted to see my parents. I just wanted to be anywhere except in this green prison.
A fourth person with them was a girl from my class, who was also on my bus. I felt she had a dire need to be accepted.
Jamie pulled my arms and kept them firmly behind my back while the bullies took turns driving their fists into my stomach. Afterward, all five placed themselves into a circle, and I kissed each of their feet. I learned humiliation that day.
Then it was Jamie’s turn. One of the bigger bullies grabbed my arms and held me while Jamie drove his daggers into my stomach, torn flesh to heal but always to be scarred. I looked to escape. When they loosened their grip, or while I was on my knees kissing their feet, I looked past them, hoping they’d let their guard down and I could flee. The beating was mobile. As soon as Jamie had knocked the wind out of me, the bullies dragged me out from the driveway and up Spruce Street. I looked for anyone to help, but there was no one. Seconds seemed like minutes, and the minutes were hours with no ending.
An opportunity to escape did arise. A woman saw the action happening from her front window. She opened her door and hollered for the thugs to stop their thrashing. However, the mob just laughed at her, but it was the window I needed. The grip on my shirt lightened. There was my opportunity for freedom. I escaped.
I ran without looking back. The taunts and the skin pincers were still fresh in my mind. I saw home. Relief lifted the heavy weight from my stomach as I stumbled into the front door crying. My babysitter was frantic. She asked where I was, but tears came faster than explanations. She wondered what happened. I still couldn’t answer her. I feared for my life. I didn’t want to say anything that would result in further hurt later. She was upset. I lowered my head, feeling terrible. It was my fault. I didn’t wish to anger my babysitter, but I did. I heard the clang of the screen door. I looked outside.
“Get back here, you little weasel!” My babysitter chased after Jamie, eventually catching him by the collar. She shook his scrawny frame violently, which led to a confession. I don’t recall what happened next, nor do I remember my babysitter explaining every detail to my parents. I can’t recall staring at my ceiling in the night’s darkness, dreading the next day. I tried to forget.
The next day, my mother drove me to school. When I approached the entrance, my other classmates had heard about yesterday’s events. The group teased me for narking. Jamie had told the others about being manhandled by my babysitter. Shortly after, the bully trio threatened me with more violence.
The teacher and the principal were both involved. My mother called the school, and the bullies found themselves in trouble. The girl denied the charges and received minimal punishment. The bully trio were rewarded a week’s worth of detentions for their efforts.
Jamie received the worst punishment. He was trying to be accepted by his peers; instead, he was the scapegoat. The other four blamed him for instigating the assault. They were victims of peer pressure. Yeah, right.
Later, Jamie tried to mend fences with me.
“I thought it was the thing to do at the time.”
How unfortunate. It took one person to get the ball rolling, and then everyone banded together and tried to kick it. But when it’s time to pay the consequences, no one wants to admit their faults. Individuals are intelligent, but people with a mob mentality can be dumb.
2 Corinthians 12:10: “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
Psalm 118:13-14: “I was pushed hard,[a] so that I was falling, but the Lord helped me. The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.”
Lifehouse – “Simon”
Lifehouse’s “Simon” makes me cry almost every time I hear it. It’s the perfect song about bullying. Here are the full lyrics from beginning to end.
Catch your breath, hit the wall Scream out loud as you start to crawl Back in your cage, the only place Where they will leave you alone
Because the weak will seek the weaker ‘til they've broken them Could you get it back again? Would it be the same? Fulfillment to their lack of strength at your Expense Left you with no defense They tore it down
And I have felt the same As you, I've felt the same As you, I've felt the same
Locked inside the only place Where you feel sheltered, where you feel safe You lost yourself in your search to find Something else to hide behind
Because the fearful always preyed upon your confidence Did they see the consequence When they pushed you around? The arrogant build kingdoms made of the different ones Breaking them 'til they've become Just another crown
And I have felt the same As you, I've felt the same As you, I've felt the same
Refuse to feel, anything at all Refuse to slip, Refuse to fall You can't be weak, you can't stand still You watch your back because no one will
You don't know why they had to go this far Traded your worth for these scars For your only company And don't believe the lies that they have told to you Not one word was true Yyou're alright, you're alright, you're alright
Paul E. Phillips is a Canadian journalist with 20 years of experience writing and editing digital and print content. He specializes in health, fitness, nutrition, and travel. He loves music, movies, and, of course, living for Jesus.
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