- Category: Cake Recipes
- Published on Sunday, 03 April 2011 20:22
- Written by Lara Landis
- Hits: 930
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I was always a strange kid, so it was no surprise that I ended up being bullied. When I was eleven or twelve I was frequently singled out and considered strange for my unusual flexibility and inability to run without severely hurting my knees. By the time I was about fourteen I had learned to "pass" for normal in that regard, but ended up facing other problems. At that age my best friend had discovered the wonders of porn and was intent on sharing it with the rest of us. So conversations about life, the universe, and anything turned into conversations about how hot the women in this or that picture was, or about how great it would be to have a threesome, or how amazing large breasts are and so on. Typical stuff for teenagers. The problems came about when it was obvious I didn't have an opinion on who was hot and who wasn't. If I could get away with just nodding and agreeing with my friends, I did.
But eventually they would ask me for my opinion, or to name some actress I found hot, or a classmate I would like to be with and I had no answer to give them. I answered honestly and told them I didn't really find any of these people attractive (in that way, anyway). As it became more and more clear that I didn't like the same things they did, especially porn, I eventually earned the nickname "freak".
Oddly enough I was never accused of being gay, I was just considered something alien and subhuman. Being an awkward teenager, I saw my peer group as the entire world, and believed I was the only person who didn't feel sexual attraction. It became easy to internalize the notions that I was a broken freak who was worthless as both a man and a human being, even if my friends probably never meant to be that cruel. As far as they were concerned, however, there was something very strange about me and for teenagers, strange means wrong.
After a year or so, I eventually became close to a friend outside my usual social circle. At some point I confided in her about my friends and my lack of interest in sex, and she felt the same way. At that point I- for once in my life- felt like I was no longer alone, and was able to stand up to my friends. I took the labels of "heartless" and "freak" and was able to make them things of pride, and pointed out how wrong all of this was. I didn't end up keeping many of my friends, although the ones I did keep were respectful and remain friends to this day. I look back and wonder what would have happened had I never built myself a safe space like that, or had I never met the girl who gave me the reassurance to stand up to people who put me down. I'm fortunate that it got better, although I realize that it only got better when I got strong enough to stand up to those who would label me as something inhuman.