Sorry Charlie

Charlie was a big brute of a girl. She had long hair that fell like stringy corn tassels and covered her face. She wore jeans and cowboy boots to school every day and a scowl that spoke of her readiness to kick someone in the shins at any moment.

It was my first year of Junior High school and I was just hitting adolescence street. I was shy and peculiar and way out of my comfort zone. I felt like I had just been shoved out the door of the moving elementary bus into a big sea of awkward pre-teens that were suddenly sprouting facial hair and boobs. I hadn’t even had time to hit my stride into puberty yet when acne and Charlie showed up in my life.

Those days of my early youth were difficult to say the least. I didn’t fit in. I didn’t dress like everyone else. My classmates had Swatch watches and wore red Reeboks. I’m pretty sure I wore the same clothes more than once in a week and I borrowed tennis shoes just to get through gym class. To tell you the truth, my folks couldn’t afford much, and that fact alone set me behind in the class standings. Apparently, that didn’t matter to Charlie.

Charlie told me everything. She waited for me in the hall between class changes. She and her band of followers showed up everywhere I went. They hung out at my locker. They sat near me at pep rallies and basketball games.

This cult like following went on for a few weeks until one day I was pulled early from class by my guidance counselor. She walked me to her office and told me to sit tight as she left and closed the door behind her. The class bell rang and the quiet murmur in the hall became a loud roar while students shuffled from one class to another. When all was calm again, Mrs. Graves showed back up and walked me to my next class.

While we walked, she explained that Charlie was going to fight with me in the hall when classes changed. I don’t remember much about our conversation after that. I zoned out to further reflect on the reality that Charlie really intended to punch my teeth in, exactly what she shouted at me when she passed by me in the hall earlier. And how did Mrs. Graves know this?

Thirty plus years later and I still think about Charlie and her gang of bullies. I have no clue why she chose me to be the target of her attacks. On the backside of my weepy youth, I have encountered more “Charlies” than I care to remember and I have learned a few things about these bullies:

1- Bullies are cowards.

2- Bullies come in all ages.

3- Bullies can be beat without ever throwing a punch.

4- The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

(This last one courtesy of my grandma who thought this might comfort me as she attempted to teach me how to manage Charlie)

In my wisdom, I know that bullies are narcissistic. They lack self-confidence and empathy, and therefore they put up a false exterior of superiority. And you know how to deal with one? You don’t.

Charlie never bothered me after the day that my counselor intervened. I never had to defend myself. I never had to stand up to her and stare into her seedy black eyes. Nope. Never. Authority is a funny thing with these people. They, themselves, are caught off guard when authority steps in and resets their rules. Sorry Charlie.

Never play with a bully. They never play by the rules. They have their own rules. Create a boundary and do not cross it. If they say they are going to punch your teeth out, let them. And then get new teeth. If they say they are going to fire you, let them. And then move on to a new job with a better boss. Even though they are miserable specimens, you don’t have to stoop to their level. Turning your back on these people is the most powerful way of standing up for yourself. Walk away and stand strong. Do not let a Sorry Charlie destroy your glow and your peace. Proverbs 1:5.

#sorrynotsorry #bullies #narcissist #growthmindset #succeeding #bekind