I am pleased to announce the guest post essay, The Long-term Effects of Bullying, written for Madeline Sharples CHOICES book blog. Check out the post, or read it here:
The long-term effects of bullying––abuse doesn’t cease when the bullying stops
While enjoying my morning coffee and reading the Sunday paper, I stumbled on an article about bullying. The title, The Long-term Effects of Bullying, caught my eye. The piece examined multiple studies conducted in the U.S. and abroad, all revealing surprisingly similar results:
• individuals who were the target of severe bullying (whether physical or verbal) were more likely to struggle with their relationships, suffer from depression, addiction, and suicide during adulthood
• bullies who were also bullied suffered similarly to their victims, and were more likely to be incarcerated
• bullies who were not bullied tended to continue their bulling behavior as adults.
I identified with the bullied. I too had struggled with relationships––trust being a huge issue––and had suffered bouts of depression. The findings made utmost sense to me! A truly ah-ha moment. I had buried those painful memories––seven years of relentless bullying both at home and at school––long ago, but this article had me thinking. I’d believed the bullying was my fault––there had to be something wrong with me, otherwise, why was I targeted? Furthermore, I believed it was best to forget, an episode that was over and done and should be buried.
Like many children, perhaps you too, I was told that bullying was a fact of life, part of growing up, that one would be stronger for it. This article suggested otherwise, and more crucially, it defined bullying as abuse, not a rite of passage.
I kept this article and hungrily searched for more evidence on the impact of bullying. I learned that the CDC now defines bullying as abuse, but only recently and in line with the US Anti Bullying Law of 2013. What took them so long? What was the impetus? School shootings––many of the perpetrators had been bullied. The Anti Bullying Law was a first step, and it launched a movement: zero tolerance bully programs in schools, but thanks to the rise of the internet, bullying has only escalated.
Moreover, the abuse doesn’t stop when the tormentor stops. In the process of writing Chasing Tarzan, I learned that I became my own bully. Once I moved to another school and left my bully behind, his shadow followed me. He had trained me well. The sound of his voice echoed even in his absence. His scoffs, his sneers, his scorn invaded my own internal voice, and I still hear him at times. Writing this book helped me reclaimed my voice, and I hope it will bring help others do the same.
I have also learned that in spite of the possible long-term effects of bullying, those who are victims of abuse do not have to be defined by their experience. A trusted advocate can diminish the effects of bullying. Several studies have confirmed this and I found it to be true. We must be vigilant, open our ears and eyes, and be aware that we each can make a difference, that we can have the power to raise a child’s spirit or unknowingly leave them forlorn and less able to grapple with their distress, or seek help.
When I walk through the halls of our children’s schools, I see anti-bullying posters everywhere. But kids don’t need posters, they need someone to reach out to––a parent, a teacher, a friend, or an astute stranger. I hope Chasing Tarzan can serve as a light for those who are suffering or have suffered bullying, guiding them to positive solutions, and helping them discover their inner strength.