Unexpected Adult Things: How Did I Become the Aggressor?
Occasionally in moments of despair, we don’t know what to do with our emotion. There can be times when everything feels so out of control, we will do strange things to feel normal or in control. This is sometimes how an aggressor evolves from nowhere. Except, nowhere is a place which doesn’t exist. Everything comes from somewhere. Today, my friend Shelby shares her testimony with falling into the trap of rolling our emotions into something we aren’t expecting.
I found myself squinting as the sun cast a glare off her shiny lime green raincoat. She wore it daily, but today, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. The day before I watched her take it off, only to hurl it at another girl’s face. She pretended her intentions were to throw it on the bleachers. Everyone knew it was on purpose.
Her victim? She played along as if it was an accident. The two girls were ex-best friends, something everyone else knew too. The bully was filtering through a lot of ex-best friends. What did the poor victim do to deserve the arm of a lime green raincoat slapped across her face? Nothing, probably. Just an easy target.
The bully liked those; easy targets. I remember her in 7th grade English class. She and a few other troublemakers made it feel as if we were animals locked inside cages at a zoo. Those troublemakers roared as lions and trampled over lesson plans like elephants as the Zookeeper attempted to teach the others. The Zookeeper once sheepishly admitted her sheltered upbringing; she spent nights reading dictionaries in her room, raised by her grandparents. Talk about an easy target.
The troublemakers prowled about the classroom cage and made sure to blare their voices louder than the Zookeeper’s. It dragged on for weeks. Poor Anne Frank, her story never had a chance. The troublemakers wouldn’t allow such depth to enter into our caged conversation. It probably opened the door to pain.
Then one day the Zookeeper finally had enough. She could’ve sent out tranquilizing shots landing the wild animals in the principal’s office, but instead she broke. How could one sheltered woman stand up against the ferocious wild?
That same day, the bully passed the Zookeeper as she prowled down the safari sidewalk. She glanced over only to see the Zookeeper sobbing on the shoulder of another cage caretaker trying to offer comfort. The bully knew she was responsible for the Zookeeper’s tears, she strolled by with the confidence of a lion, knowing she was merely a frightened kitten inside.
That bully was me. I was a frightened child, full of hurt and rage with nowhere to point it. Who was to blame? Who had broken my home? Who told me the answer was to take a stance with fists raised, instead of hit my knees with hands of praise?
No one.
She was a scared little girl left to her own devices. The world taught her to raise her fists with a loud voice and send her attackers cowering away like field mice. And she would kill off every assailant before they got close enough to even smell her fear.
As life went on, I became a fearful teenager, and then a broken young adult. Until one day, God’s love broke through. He sent his word, healed me and delivered me from my destructions, Psalm 107:20. There’s not a person on the planet who could’ve done what he did; Momma tried. Her love helped, but God healed. Once I was healed, I could fully love. There’s not a bully or victim on this Earth that’s equipped to deal with our broken world on their own. We were made for relationship, community, and love.
I’m still learning to love; learning to love others more than myself, learning to choose kindness over offense. I’m learning to choose love every day.
If there’s a bully or victim in your life, will you choose love? Show them Jesus. As my pastor says, “You might be the only bible they ever read.”
Hosea 14:4 (KJV) I will heal their backsliding, I will love them freely: for mine anger is turned away from him.
Song of Solomon 2:4 (KJV) He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.