She was bigger than me. Taller. Rounder.
She was mean, too.
While we waited for the bus, her favorite past-time seemed to be taunt me. I did not enjoy the same activities as she did. We weren’t very compatible.
At a certain point, words were no longer enough. She began to threaten to hit me. I was very scared of this possibility but I was VERY self-righteous and proselytized for pacifism. I spent a lot of time at the Peace Center, where my Dad was the treasurer.
I thought believing in non-violence would save me from violence. It didn’t. She hit me anyway. And I just stood there and took it. Partly because I felt it was the right thing to do and partly because I didn’t know what else to do.
I was confused, later, when my mother offered another way to respond to this bullying, that I could, if I wanted to, hit a person a back. It hadn’t even occurred to me to do that. This is a solution I’d be much more likely to enjoy today. But then, I don’t remember that girl ever hitting me again so maybe being a self-righteous peacenik worked somehow.