The Only Thing a Bully Really Understands

I went to Southland Christian Church in Lexington, Kentucky when I was a child. My mother made us attend on Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings and sometimes on Wednesday evening. 

There was a bully in my Sunday School class when I was around 12 years old. John made my life a living hell for several weeks, calling me names and hurling insults at me in his loud voice, causing other kids to laugh at my expense. I guess I looked a little geeky. I was scrawny and wore glasses. Sometimes the glasses had tape on them.

After several weeks of taking his loud abuse and being humiliated in front of the other kids who I had grown up with, I told him to leave me alone.

"If you wanna do something about it, meet me behind Stonewall Elementary today after church," he snarled.

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll meet you at Stonewall at 12:30.

He laughed as if he knew something I didn't. "I'm gonna kill you," John said.

Maybe he would, but the abuse had to stop. 

After church, I arrived home, changed out of t...

Continue Reading...
Close

50% Complete

Two Step

Thank you for subscribing. I promise not to pelt you with constant messages that do not provide value. You will learn about internal arts news, inspirational posts, new videos, and other messages designed to help you in your martial arts journey.