How many times have I stood up to bullies? I’ve lost count. I know I was doing it before I was 3 years old, stopping my mother from harming my baby brother. I’ve stood between raging men and the women and children they were trying to terrorize. I did it again this weekend, standing up to someone who is beloved by many but was choosing in that moment to try to bully them, albeit with words not fists.
I’m tired of bullies. Tired of people who think that because they have money or authority or people love them, they have the right to impose their will on others.
I know that in their own minds, bullies believe they are justified and perhaps even heroic. I understand that deep down they are acting out of their own fears.
I’m still tired of bullies. And terrified of ever being one myself.