Skeletons Of My Past Are Still Haunting Me…

Coming home to Canada and staying at my parent’s is always bitter sweet. I find comfort and peace in the warmth of their cozy home. I find love in their caring arms and joy in their voices. Yet when I start to rummage through my old belongings, a lot of chords are struck within my heart, and some not so enlightening.

My past has many skeletons that I have tried to bury…forgive and forget. It simply has not been that easy. Next year I will be 30. Can you imagine I still hurt inside from being bullied as a child? It sounds so lame, but I will have to live with these demons for life. My biggest fear, is that the same will happen to my children. I don’t want them to experience what I suffered. NOR do I want them to be a villain and bully others. How to create that equal balance?

There are many tips on google on how to “stop bullying”. But truthfully, I think they are easier said than done. I believe it is the responsibility of the teacher to source these things out in his/her classroom. In my case, my perpetrator was a “class favorite” and I was chopped liver. I sure hope the millennium has updated this way of treatment at schools.

Secondly, be a great listening to your child. You should be able to sense misery when they come home from school. Be that shoulder to cry on and listen with your utmost respect. You are the one that can make the biggest difference. My mom was my rock, she stood by me and fought for me. Unfortunately in those times I was treated like the outcast and the school  I went to always blamed the problems on me. Pathetic! Home was my only safe place where people listened to my little voice and I felt protected. By now, 20 years later, I pray they have these safe places at schools too.

Here are some old notes I found in a journal. I must have been roughly 7 years old. They are hard to decipher so I did that for you (just read the captions on the photos). They were letters I kept secret from my Mom. Occasionally I would write one to my brother and leave it under his door for him to answer me back. I always looked up to him. He was never bullied and I sure hope was not a bully to others. He had such confidence and intelligence that I admired and still do til’ this day. I thrived to be like him…He was my hero!

Note from 7 year old Corrine to her brother Jordan in 1993 “She makes fun of me because I have glasses. And now I don’t want to wear my glasses. That’s why I never wear them. She makes people gang up on me.

"She calls me bad names. She makes people hurt me and steal my things. They are so mean things, I can't tell you. (don't correct my words). I love you

“She calls me bad names. She makes people hurt me and steal my things. They are so mean things, I can’t tell you. (don’t correct my words). I love you

From brother Jordan to Corrine 1993.  "You have to go to school. Just think of it as a way to spend your day. There will be many Jessika Shroeders. All you have to do is find their weaknesses and pick on it. "

From brother Jordan to Corrine 1993.
“You have to go to school. Just think of it as a way to spend your day. There will be many Jessika S. All you have to do is find their weaknesses and pick on it. ” I later wrote back on the bottom “I am going to talk to you, are you happy?”

 

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