“Avoid negative sources, people, places and habits” Pt. 1

“Avoid negative sources, people, places and habits” - Dalai Lama

The faces that you see on a daily basis, the people that you dialogue with the most, the places that you visit the most: should all be bringing you feelings of peace, comfort and love. We as humans constantly tend to surround ourselves with things that attract negative sources.

Growing up, I always placed myself in situations in which could have been avoided. I surrounded myself with people who were arrogant, and selfish.

I have allowed people to enter my life thinking that they have my best interest at heart, when in reality their negative sources and energies, have brought me nothing but heartache or a reason to question who I am and my purpose. It was very difficult for me at a young age to be able to differentiate between someone who is arrogant versus someone who is humble.

This taught me THREE valuable things in life:

One: Materialistic things come and go:

It was the middle of November when my attic caught on fire due to an electrical circuit malfunction. At this moment in time, I was around twelve. It was the middle of the night when I woke up to my room full of smoke and flames blocking my doorway. I remember panicking, but most of all I remember the chills that ran through my body as I wondered how the hell I was going to get out. Looking out the window, watching fire men expand their ladders to start putting out the fire. My aunt, who was living with us at the time was able to help me jump over the rising flames: quick enough before the floor sunk in and fell through the second floor of our home. I remember panting as I tried to catch my breath , my mother yelling for us to stay together, stay covered and to get out. The cold, mushy snow filled our shoes, made us shiver, yet none of that seemed to matter at the time. What mattered was that my family was together, safe and sound outside. Even through the cold of the night, one thing that I will forever cherish is the man who stepped up to me in his fire suit and gave me a hug. He assured me that everything was going to be ok, and gave me and my siblings a blanket to keep warm. Granted

I lost everything because of the fire: clothes, shoes, and everything else that was considered materialistic to me. I was reminded of the great service and the risk that those who are in law enforcement or in the fire department are constantly confronted with, and I will forever be grateful for that.

Furthermore, when we define bullying, we know it to be a “superior strength or influence to intimidate someone, typically to force him/her to what one wants”. Bullying is a common issue even in the present day, it is also something that is commonly ignored because many aren’t aware that this is something that is real. There have been many cases throughout the years in which bullying and depression or suicide have been linked. There is so gender specifics when it comes to bullying, there is no race codes: anyone can be a victim of bullying and I speak from experience.

Many who know me, personally, know me for my sassy character, I tend to live up to the “Latina stereotype”. Yes, I admit, I can be a feisty hothead, who when gets pissed off rambles in her native language. What can I say?

My experiences in life have made me the young woman who I am today, yet through it all I always stayed true to myself and still continue to do so. It is important that as individuals we are able to identify the common markers of bullying. When I went from sixth to seventh grade, I was still living in housing properties provided to us by the city until the apartment we lived in was being repaired. Me and my siblings, after losing everything, were provided with clothes that we're donated from friends, teachers, mentors, and the city programs who helped provide families in similar situations. By losing everything that I once had again, I realized that materialistic things bring temporary happiness. Materialistic things can break, can get lost, and can even loose value: yet as humans, sometimes we tend to make materialistic things the center of our world.

When I first entered the seventh grade, I remember wearing my khaki pants, some Fila sneakers, hair tied back in a slick ponytail, and I held my head up high even through the worst of times. At this time, I was being bullied because of my high water pants, oversized uniform shirts, and inexpensive sneakers. I remember the countless amount of times girls would walk past me, laugh at the way I wore my uniform because it wasn’t ‘sexy enough’. The name calling began, the pushing and shoving began, the funny hair puling while walking past me was an everyday thing. I didn’t know how to defend myself at this time, I was sheltered, I was dealing with so much at home, and academics was the only thing that kept me afloat. This was the only time that I was able to consider that materialistic things did have a value to me. They protected me from the insults, the judgements, the constant harassing. The bullying in school led to me constantly getting into physical altercations, drinking/sneaking in bottles of alcohol for my friends, skipping classes and constantly missing school in general.

With all this going on at once, I met a guy in the eighth grade. He was one of the ‘popular boys’ who quickly became interested in me after watching one of the girls walk past me and spit on my shoe. He grabbed me by arm, pulled me in tight under him, and whispered in my ear “meet me at 12:05 by the gym”. At first I contemplated this offer, I was confused as to why such a guy like him would want to be seen around with me. After finally deciding to meet him, he asked me to join his ‘crew’. I looked at him like he was crazy at first, but then I reconsidered when he promised me that I would never be bothered again. Every morning, every afternoon, D walked with me to school and from school. I remember him genuinely trying to get to know me, and as long as I was seen with him, the bullying temporarily stopped. He offered me protection, so I had to make a deal with him, I had to join his crew. On our daily walks he began to pretty much train me, he would constantly punch me on the arms. At first it would be taps, that would lead up to full blown punches. I think about it and still remember the pain each and every punch caused me to feel. My arm would feel like it was going to fall off my shoulders by the end of the week, so that meant he had to switch arms. I would take every blow, every punch, I looked at every bruise, and dealt with the pain. I held my head up high, tears running down my face, yet I knew I was changing. He would tell me he would stop once I built the courage to punch him back. D became such a respectable figure in my life. I looked up to him for everything because he was the only one in my corner. One day, I literally rocked his s***. Excuse my language, but this is the day I passed, this is the day I was initiated, this is the day that I went to school: stepped up to my bully and literally punched in her the face. D, he showed me courage, he showed me tough love, he saved me from bullying. Granted every story is not like mine, but I had the full experience of what it is like to be bullied, to feel like nothing, to feel like you would do anything to make the pain stop. So it is important that we talk about our experiences with bullying to try and reach out and help someone in need.

This was a very tough time for me because on top of being placed in random housing with my family still, dealing with this bullying and getting a gist of things academically again: I was also being molested by a family friend who was temporarily helping take care of me and my siblings. J, was a man that I trusted, someone I called my uncle, someone I looked up to, someone I used to get happy about seeing. This was also someone who took away my innocence, someone who changed my perceptions on young boys and men, someone who took away my confidence at such a young age. I remember coming home from school, I would be the first one there sometimes, and J would be there. At the time, I was able to recognize that he had a drinking problem, he always smelled like beer and alcohol and the smell was all too familiar. I would sit in his room and watch SpongeBob, when he came home, he knew I was in the room. Every day, he would talk to me, ask me how my day was at school.

One day, he caught me by surprise, he sat behind me on his bed, opened his legs and wrapped them around my waist. He played with my hair, then slowly started to rub his hands down my neck, my back, until he was under my shirt, unclipping my bra and feeling all over my boobs and stomach. He would tell me that this was normal, it was like a massage and that girls who worked hard in school would get these. He told me that if I told anyone, nobody would believe me. I remember his breath blowing against my neck, my skin crawling and cringing to the touch of his rough hands. I remember him laughing and telling me I was doing the right thing. He told me that every day I was to come up to his room to watch SpongeBob and that I was too say nothing about it, and so I did. This went on for some months, I honestly can’t remember how long, but I do know that I kept it all to myself out of fear.

I can still remember until this day some of the disgusting feelings that I felt back in this moment, and it sadly somehow still has an effect on me today. These are memories that can’t be erased, but I definitely try my hardest to not let these hidden feelings impact my current sexual drives and outlook on men. It is very important to note that this can happen to anyone, and this is happening to someone every minute of the day somewhere around the globe. Many people like to victim blame, they say the victim should’ve spoken up, they should’ve stooped it, they could’ve avoided the situation: but you never know the difficulty and fear that this situation can place the victim in. It is important that if someone is trying to speak, or reach out about similar situations that we listen and understand instead of judge. This is something, that almost 10 years later still has an effect on me. Granted the situation could’ve been worst, but being molested is still something that happened to me, and I have to live with it, own it, and share it.

After some time had passed, we ended up moving back home: this is when the molestation stopped because I was no longer needed to be ‘supervised’. I felt such a sense of relief, I felt so happy that this was a time in where I could be by myself finally and not have to worry about coming home from school to be groped on. I remember the loss of appetite, the stress, the way I would feel around boys my age, and how I looked at every other man who walked passed me on a daily basis. I was scared to show too much skin; I was scared to look too appealing to the eye of others. I remember losing the little bit of confidence I had, and I remember shutting everyone out of my life who wasn’t my immediate family. This series of events took a huge toll on my life, it was hard for me to continue to try and hold myself together when I felt like the whole entire world was against me.

At this point in my life, I became angry but also very confused at what was happening to me. This was when my self-constructed wall began to build itself with time. I began to form negative opinions about life: I was being raised by a single mother, who woke up every morning to make sure she could provide me and my two younger siblings with everything we needed. I didn’t have someone to talk to 24/7. This is the age when teenagers feel as if they can’t tell their parents anything, and yes I was one of those. My mom was unaware of the bullying, and the molestation. I learned to cope with these on my own, I found a way to tell myself that this was all happening for a reason: pain is temporary, it will go away. I didn’t trust anyone outside my close niched circle, I didn’t believe in myself, I didn’t have a positive outlook on life, so my wall was the only thing I could hide myself from. This temporary shield made me emotionless, it made me careless, it made me numb: it made me feel secure and untouchable.

Two: Remaining patient through a tough time is key:

To be continued……..