Bullied Into Silence
Alright, I’ve gone and told the world I’m a writer! Now what?! Who put me in charge?! Oh right, I did..... fml. ** facepalm **
I don’t know how to do this next part. Mostly because I don’t know what feels authentic yet, and I’m figuring this out as I go. I want to be my own boss, but I am struggling to motivate myself after hitting career burn out this year. I know I want to control how I work and who I work with. And I know I want to be authentic and vulnerable. But there are parts of my story I don’t want to share, even though I need to share them. I originally didn’t want to share any of it, but now I feel I have to tell it or this adventure won’t be in line with my promise to readers that I will be authentic.
That is why I needed to do this independently. I need to be in control of my voice, so I know it’s authentic. If I’ve learned anything throughout my life, there are too many people in positions of authority and power looking to silence a dissenting voice, no matter the cost. The result of this week’s general election confirmed my desire to be that dissenting voice. For myself, for my loved ones, and even for the people working against freedom and democracy. I don’t want to be like them. I want to prove that we can be better. I want to build a space where we can help each other be better. To do that, I have to be authentic, no matter how scared I am.
The low points in my life happened because I let someone bully me into silence. At the times I allowed someone else to control my voice, I didn’t have the tools to see the abuse of power for what it was. And until recently, I didn’t have the tools to defend myself against such insidious manipulation. Because that is what patriarchy and white supremacy are, systems built on insidious manipulation intended to dehumanize and silence women and people of color.
There are so many minor instances in my life that broke my heart and silenced my voice. At one point, I described to my therapist that it feels like I was bullied my entire life into thinking I am a terrible person. The bullying came not just from my peers in elementary and junior high school, but also from people in positions of authority and romantic partners who claimed to love me. Even from some of my family.
A fourth-grade teacher had a discussion about all my faults with other adult staff members in the same room as the entire class, and it was quiet enough in the room we could hear what was being said.
A boyfriend when I was 19 criticized my food choices, my exercise routine, my study habits, how I grieved losing a high school classmate to the Iraq War, and how I expressed my emotions.
A boss who made sexually suggestive comments about every woman employed under him. Another boss who propositioned a coworker on a work retreat to be his mistress. Another boss who would use intimidation to punish employees who reported his poor performance. Another boss who lied, sabotaged me, and harassed me daily with what felt like an intention to make me quit. Rinse and repeat those last two. Work culture in America is broken.
Another boyfriend who was a covert narcissist and used sophisticated self victimization as a manipulation tactic and would gaslight me incessantly about everything. He would pick fights over where to eat lunch, what TV show or movie to watch, and then there was the more serious gaslighting. Like what we agreed were boundaries in our sexual relationship, including changing what his boundaries and preferences were each time we were physically intimate, and trying to convince me I told him different boundaries than what I had outlined.
People have told me I’m not disciplined enough to handle responsibility, I’m not thin enough to wear a skirt at work without offending someone with my thick thighs, and I’m not quiet enough to be likable. But you wanna know the worst part? Of all those bullies, the worst one was me.
At a very young age, I came to the logical conclusion that to be liked; I had to be adorably self-deprecating. If I was the first one to criticize myself, and if I was funny about it, I could set the tone of any future judgments someone might have of me. That kind of humor is just a distraction, so you won’t notice there’s vulnerability lurking beneath the surface.
When I broke up with the Gaslighter in August 2022, I didn’t sleep more than three hours a day for two weeks. I existed on coffee, bread, Tums, and marijuana for days. I was literally losing my mind and my physical health wasn’t great either. There’s tons of research about the link between sleep and your physical and mental health, but essentially when you don’t get enough sleep, you go insane. Your brain starts to shrivel like a bodybuilder who loses muscle when they stop lifting.
Because I had experienced depression when I was younger, I knew I needed help urgently. I begged a friend to help me find a therapist asap and when I walked into that first therapy session I said: “I want to know what I am doing to allow these toxic relationship patterns to repeat in my life. And I want help changing these behaviors.”
That first year in therapy, I learned how to recognize toxic behavior in myself and in others. And then in 2023, I started learning how to stop the cycles. And GIRL, that is when shit got ROUGH!! When you outgrow an old self you have to metamorphose into your new self like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly! By the way, metamorphosis is the most metal thing about the universe.
Pretend you’re a squishy little caterpillar and it’s time to be a graceful butterfly. So you make the cocoon to do the work, that’s the going to therapy part. Now this is where it gets metal. Once in therapy, I mean the chrysalis, the caterpillar literally dissolves themself into cosmic goo. Everything about that caterpillar is broken down into its basic molecules and shit. It’s terrifying and awesome, and I swear it’s real.
The caterpillar becomes cosmic goo after going into the chrysalis, for a human in therapy this is talking about every single traumatic moment that made you feel like a piece of shit your entire life. You know those cringey memories you tried to block out forever? Super fun! Yay! Therapy! 10/10 recommend!
Hopefully, after some time inside your cocoon doing the cosmic goo shit, you come out a butterfly, or maybe a moth, if that’s more your vibe. And THAT is what we call self growth! I think. Anyway, thank you for listening to my bizarre nature documentary metaphor of self realization.
I learned a lot about myself in therapy. I learned how I hurt others to hide my own hurt. I learned how I let others hurt me because I had a low sense of self worth. And I learned that I am my worst bully. Out of all the people who have bullied me into silencing my voice, I was the biggest villain because I internalized their negative words and turned them on myself. I had a constant self-diss track playing in my head on repeat. From the daycare director who called me bossy at age three, to the friend in school who yelled at me in front of a crowd that nobody liked me, to the abusive boyfriends who took their childhood trauma out on me, to the constant messaging women and girls absorb every day that tells us we are not enough and we never will be. I internalized it all and blasted it on repeat like some sort of self hate propaganda. Nobody did that but me.
See, here’s the thing about all of those bullies. I eventually stood up to them. The girl who used to punch me and pull my hair on the bus. The bosses who behaved unethically and expected me to cover for them with our clients. The abusive boyfriends. I told them all to get bent in one way or another. Sometimes I did it nicely and with compassion, like when I simply asked my bus bully why she hated me? And sometimes I did it with blazing feminine rage, like when I refused to back down this year when the leadership at work used manipulation, intimidation, and gaslighting to stop me from speaking out about a toxic manager. Even though the experience of working there drove me into the biggest mental health crisis of my life, I refused to give in and deny what I experienced was valid.
I don’t know how to do this next part. Mostly because I don’t know what feels authentic yet, and I’m figuring this out as I go. I want to be my own boss, but I am struggling to motivate myself after hitting career burn out this year. I know I want to control how I work and who I work with. And I know I want to be authentic and vulnerable. But there are parts of my story I don’t want to share, even though I need to share them. I originally didn’t want to share any of it, but now I feel I have to tell it or this adventure won’t be in line with my promise to readers that I will be authentic.
That is why I needed to do this independently. I need to be in control of my voice, so I know it’s authentic. If I’ve learned anything throughout my life, there are too many people in positions of authority and power looking to silence a dissenting voice, no matter the cost. The result of this week’s general election confirmed my desire to be that dissenting voice. For myself, for my loved ones, and even for the people working against freedom and democracy. I don’t want to be like them. I want to prove that we can be better. I want to build a space where we can help each other be better. To do that, I have to be authentic, no matter how scared I am.
The low points in my life happened because I let someone bully me into silence. At the times I allowed someone else to control my voice, I didn’t have the tools to see the abuse of power for what it was. And until recently, I didn’t have the tools to defend myself against such insidious manipulation. Because that is what patriarchy and white supremacy are, systems built on insidious manipulation intended to dehumanize and silence women and people of color.
There are so many minor instances in my life that broke my heart and silenced my voice. At one point, I described to my therapist that it feels like I was bullied my entire life into thinking I am a terrible person. The bullying came not just from my peers in elementary and junior high school, but also from people in positions of authority and romantic partners who claimed to love me. Even from some of my family.
A fourth-grade teacher had a discussion about all my faults with other adult staff members in the same room as the entire class, and it was quiet enough in the room we could hear what was being said.
A boyfriend when I was 19 criticized my food choices, my exercise routine, my study habits, how I grieved losing a high school classmate to the Iraq War, and how I expressed my emotions.
A boss who made sexually suggestive comments about every woman employed under him. Another boss who propositioned a coworker on a work retreat to be his mistress. Another boss who would use intimidation to punish employees who reported his poor performance. Another boss who lied, sabotaged me, and harassed me daily with what felt like an intention to make me quit. Rinse and repeat those last two. Work culture in America is broken.
Another boyfriend who was a covert narcissist and used sophisticated self victimization as a manipulation tactic and would gaslight me incessantly about everything. He would pick fights over where to eat lunch, what TV show or movie to watch, and then there was the more serious gaslighting. Like what we agreed were boundaries in our sexual relationship, including changing what his boundaries and preferences were each time we were physically intimate, and trying to convince me I told him different boundaries than what I had outlined.
Life tip: write your boundaries down somewhere and use that written list to discuss boundaries in intimate relationships. Don’t give the other person edit access to your list. If they ever try to convince you that you said something you didn’t, you have proof you did not. Then run away from that person. Run far.
People have told me I’m not disciplined enough to handle responsibility, I’m not thin enough to wear a skirt at work without offending someone with my thick thighs, and I’m not quiet enough to be likable. But you wanna know the worst part? Of all those bullies, the worst one was me.
At a very young age, I came to the logical conclusion that to be liked; I had to be adorably self-deprecating. If I was the first one to criticize myself, and if I was funny about it, I could set the tone of any future judgments someone might have of me. That kind of humor is just a distraction, so you won’t notice there’s vulnerability lurking beneath the surface.
When I broke up with the Gaslighter in August 2022, I didn’t sleep more than three hours a day for two weeks. I existed on coffee, bread, Tums, and marijuana for days. I was literally losing my mind and my physical health wasn’t great either. There’s tons of research about the link between sleep and your physical and mental health, but essentially when you don’t get enough sleep, you go insane. Your brain starts to shrivel like a bodybuilder who loses muscle when they stop lifting.
Because I had experienced depression when I was younger, I knew I needed help urgently. I begged a friend to help me find a therapist asap and when I walked into that first therapy session I said: “I want to know what I am doing to allow these toxic relationship patterns to repeat in my life. And I want help changing these behaviors.”
That first year in therapy, I learned how to recognize toxic behavior in myself and in others. And then in 2023, I started learning how to stop the cycles. And GIRL, that is when shit got ROUGH!! When you outgrow an old self you have to metamorphose into your new self like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly! By the way, metamorphosis is the most metal thing about the universe.
Pretend you’re a squishy little caterpillar and it’s time to be a graceful butterfly. So you make the cocoon to do the work, that’s the going to therapy part. Now this is where it gets metal. Once in therapy, I mean the chrysalis, the caterpillar literally dissolves themself into cosmic goo. Everything about that caterpillar is broken down into its basic molecules and shit. It’s terrifying and awesome, and I swear it’s real.
The caterpillar becomes cosmic goo after going into the chrysalis, for a human in therapy this is talking about every single traumatic moment that made you feel like a piece of shit your entire life. You know those cringey memories you tried to block out forever? Super fun! Yay! Therapy! 10/10 recommend!
Hopefully, after some time inside your cocoon doing the cosmic goo shit, you come out a butterfly, or maybe a moth, if that’s more your vibe. And THAT is what we call self growth! I think. Anyway, thank you for listening to my bizarre nature documentary metaphor of self realization.
I learned a lot about myself in therapy. I learned how I hurt others to hide my own hurt. I learned how I let others hurt me because I had a low sense of self worth. And I learned that I am my worst bully. Out of all the people who have bullied me into silencing my voice, I was the biggest villain because I internalized their negative words and turned them on myself. I had a constant self-diss track playing in my head on repeat. From the daycare director who called me bossy at age three, to the friend in school who yelled at me in front of a crowd that nobody liked me, to the abusive boyfriends who took their childhood trauma out on me, to the constant messaging women and girls absorb every day that tells us we are not enough and we never will be. I internalized it all and blasted it on repeat like some sort of self hate propaganda. Nobody did that but me.
See, here’s the thing about all of those bullies. I eventually stood up to them. The girl who used to punch me and pull my hair on the bus. The bosses who behaved unethically and expected me to cover for them with our clients. The abusive boyfriends. I told them all to get bent in one way or another. Sometimes I did it nicely and with compassion, like when I simply asked my bus bully why she hated me? And sometimes I did it with blazing feminine rage, like when I refused to back down this year when the leadership at work used manipulation, intimidation, and gaslighting to stop me from speaking out about a toxic manager. Even though the experience of working there drove me into the biggest mental health crisis of my life, I refused to give in and deny what I experienced was valid.
Going to therapy and doing my cosmic goo shit helped me reclaim my voice for myself.
And now I need to shout. And I need to be free to shout on my terms. But I’m scared to be so open and honest. I’m a person who shuts out any potential threat, and choosing this career path, I’m opening myself up more than I ever have. There’s a lot of reasons in this world a woman like me will choose not to speak up. I don’t want to hurt any of the people who have hurt me, that’s not the retribution I seek. I’m afraid for my own mental health and safety in a world that hates dissenting feminine voices. And I’m tired. It’s exhausting fighting to love yourself in a world built to make you hate everything you are. But there are more reasons to shout than there are to stay quiet. Nevertheless, I must persist. And I hope you will too.
The comments are open if you need to share anything. Keep it kind <3
And now I need to shout. And I need to be free to shout on my terms. But I’m scared to be so open and honest. I’m a person who shuts out any potential threat, and choosing this career path, I’m opening myself up more than I ever have. There’s a lot of reasons in this world a woman like me will choose not to speak up. I don’t want to hurt any of the people who have hurt me, that’s not the retribution I seek. I’m afraid for my own mental health and safety in a world that hates dissenting feminine voices. And I’m tired. It’s exhausting fighting to love yourself in a world built to make you hate everything you are. But there are more reasons to shout than there are to stay quiet. Nevertheless, I must persist. And I hope you will too.
The comments are open if you need to share anything. Keep it kind <3
Love,Cait