Kids These Days

"I'm not concerned with your liking or disliking me... All I ask is that you respect me as a human being." ~Jackie Robinson 

The thing that bothers me most about my generation and those below me is the level of respect, or lack-there-of for others. I honestly do not believe respect is something that is taught to kids anymore. 

Not that there a right or wrong way to parent, but I was raised "right" or "proper". I was taught to respect everyone I meet, no matter how much I like or dislike them. Too often have I encountered people my age that have no idea how to respect their peers-- and I'm not talking just about the hoodlums on the street corner. No, well educated, college schooled young adults from decent backgrounds and merited accomplishments disrespect those whom they are closest too.

This is a huge problem for society because how can you learn to respect yourself when no one respects you? How can you say that every individual deserves self respect when those around them show no respect or validations of feelings and opinions? Sure, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, everyone has a right to feel how they want, right or wrong. This is not the issue. The issue lies in others not respecting the opinions and emotions of their peers because they don't agree with them. Not agreeing has never merited disrespect. Look at Congress for example (yes, I know, she's getting political). Congress does not agree on issues but instead of saying "You're wrong, dumbass!", they provide logical arguments to persuade the other party to see things their way. This way, they are not invalidating the issue, but rather using logic to prove there may be another solution.

Now I'm not saying Congress has it perfect. Trust me, they aren't my favorite people either. But the message is still the same. Fighting is perfectly healthy (of course I do not mean physical fighting), as long as you still respect the one you are fighting with. Respecting others' feelings and opinions is crucial to compromise. 

When I was in second grade, my "best friend" Danielle flipped on a dime and started hating and bullying me. Everyday, I came home crying and my parents said to "Kill her with kindness". When you've been hurt, this is a lot harder than it seems. And in second grade, you don't have enough of a worldly concept to be able to fully grasp this. However, one day it was rainy and we were the only two at the bus stop. I had an umbrella and she did not. At age seven, I stood for five minutes debating whether or not I should share my umbrella with a girl I was afraid would call me names and kick me. In the end, the bus came and I never had to finish my decision, but I was learning that no matter how much hatred I harbored for this girl, I still had respect that she was a person with emotions and opinions. I'll never know if she would have bullied me or thanked me for offering my umbrella and to this day I wish I would have offered it.

Maybe it's my own experience with being disrespected that makes this such an issue with me. I hate being talked over, as if what I am saying is too trivial for the other person to listen. And I hate when people say, "You don't feel that way" or "You're just pretending to feel that way for attention". Nothing boils my blood more than that sort of disrespect.

I had an incident with my mother four years ago on this matter. I told her I was feeling like she didn't respect me or appreciate everything I did since my dad and sister moved out. And she told me that I was making it up and that I was an ungrateful bitch. That was what began my depression. And I know I'm not the only one out there who has been disrespected to the point of depression.

Now I'm in a situation with people whom I thought were my friends and whom have stopped respecting my feelings and opinions. I don't want to "Kill them with kindness". I want them to hurt. I want to be the biggest bitch they have ever seen because when you mess with a lion, you get the claws. Is this the right thing to do? No, of course not, and I know the right thing to do is to just be kind. But they don't deserve it. 

But how do you measure how much someone deserves to be respected? You don't. It is not anyone's job to say who deserves respect and who doesn't. Whether you have been hurt or simply don't like someone, that is no excuse to show disrespect. So hold the door, listen to what others say, come to a compromise, say excuse me, apologize, and share your umbrella. Showing respect exemplifies the highest level of character. No one ever thinks a respectful person has poor character.

And just because I feel like this ties in, I'm going to end on another quote:

“Watch your thoughts for they become words. Watch your words for they become actions. Watch your actions for they become habit. Watch your habits for they become character. Watch your character for it becomes your destiny.” ~Lao Tzu


~E J Royson

In Case Anyone Asks:

                              A confession has to be part of your new life. ~Ludwig Wittgenstein 

No, I'm not alright. I am no form of "okay". And there is not much left to do to make it right.

I have spent the last five years suffering from depression. I think it is safe to say, I am very good at hiding it. I have cut myself and have come very close to having an eating disorder. I have never been medicated and I will say whatever I have to so that I can get out of therapy.

I have spent the last three years lying about who I am and I think somewhere along that road I forgot who I actually am. And now I have no where left to turn.

When my parents divorced, I was also undergoing a lot of social changes through high school. When my mom decided to starve and abuse me, then kick me out onto the snowy front step to wait and freeze while my father came to pick me up, I couldn't handle it. I "broke my wings" so to speak. Court appointed therapists and being forced to go see them have tainted what I think of our justice system as well as the psychologists who say they want to help. They did nothing to help my psyche and only helped my mother have more opportunities to abuse me. When DYFS finally got involved, only then did my pain with my mother begin to cease.

Living with my dad and step mom wasn't bad, they just didn't know how to help me. Then, because I was tired of hearing "I'm so sorry about what you're going through," I began to pretend I was fine. I lied. I lied and said I was happy. I lied and said it stopped hurting so much. I lied so that no one would begin to wonder whether something should be done about that sad, sad girl in the corner.

Then I changed schools. Stepping into one of the most notoriously caddy high schools in South Jersey at the beginning of Junior year, I was forced into an environment where everyone had grown up together, outsiders were frowned upon and it was okay to stab others in the back. Did I want to do this? No, but my mother had made that choice for me when she left me on the front porch.

The people at this school seemed fake to me. I saw their smiles and listened to their stories about how much fun they had partying and realized, the only way to fit in within the walls of this hell hole was to be fake. So I began to pretend.

It was the acting chance of a lifetime. For two years, I pretended to be someone I wasn't. I went from a quiet, shy, brilliant minded, witty and kind girl to a sarcastic, crass, unfeeling bitch. And somehow, I was able to make friends. It never occurred to me what this would do to me in the long term. I never thought I would lose myself so easily. But I did.

The friends I made in high school, I lost. True to their fake environment, they were fake friends. Once I went to college, I lost contact with most of them. Friends from my younger years and very few from high school I still consider friends but the majority are lost. When I did go to college, my theatrical act followed me. And once again, I made friends.

Somewhere deep inside, my morals were securely intact and I did not go making friends with the wrong sort, or maybe I did, but that's yet to be officially proven. I did not enjoy the company of party-goers, I did not enjoy the company of druggies, I did not enjoy the company of those who did not go to college to learn. The friends I did make were, for lack of a better word, nerds. They were quiet, they were fun and they knew what it was like to be an outcast. We made a good group. But as my act persisted and I began to realize that these people did not know who I was at all. I began to realize, the friends I made in class- where my act did not persist- would be appalled by the person I was when I was out of class.

So here is my confession to my "friends":
-I am not a whore. I make a lot of sex jokes because I want people to laugh and like me. It has come to a point where my mind has become perversion enough that it will take a while until I can return to the witty humor that I once had. But I am going to try.
-I am actually pretty smart. I'm not trying to toot my own horn here, but I'm quick. I can pick things up faster than most people and I have only pretended to be dumber because my high school social life demanded I knock a few IQ points off. Because I have pretended, I have found people believe my idiocy to be true. I have a great memory and am great with logic. (I mean hell, I'm in college with a 3.8. There has to be something between my ears.) When people belittle my knowledge, it frustrates me because I know the actuality of what they are trying to explain to me. I am tired of being talked down to, so I am returning to who I was.
-I am not as loud as I have pretended. I have spent so many years with my voice being silenced that any opportunity to speak out, I take. When people talk over me, when people cut me off, when people tell me I'm wrong, it frustrates me. So sometimes I talk just to have my voice heard. I have spent far too long trying to say something brilliant and having people disrespect what I am trying to say. So I will write people notes because it feels like the only way I can say what I have to so that I may have my voice heard. Too often are my voice and opinion ignored. I am going to stop talking just to talk and only contribute when I have something important to add to the conversation.
-I do not dislike anyone for how they identify, their race, their religion, their gender, the color of their hair or anything. If I dislike someone, it is because I dislike their character. Far too often have people called me a racist, homophobic, etc. because I dislike someone. If you are not a good person, you are not a good person. I couldn't care less how you identify yourself, if you have bad character, I will not like you. I try to give everyone a fair chance but I suppose everyone deserves one more. But only one more.
-I was raised that every action one makes is an example of the respect you show others. I am not a neat-freak because I am OCD, I was taught that being untidy was disrespectful. I am not loud, not because I don't like loud things, but because I was taught being obnoxiously loud is disrespectful. I offer what I have, not because I think what I have is better, but because I am trying to respect and make others' lives better and more convenient. I will go out of my way for a person because for me, this shows you respect them. I will make it more clear that I am trying to respect others so that it does not come off as being a "stuck-up, rich-girl bitch."

Because none of my current friends realize this about me, I fear I have no one left who knows who I am. Suffice it to say, I am having an identity crisis. I have spent so long pretending to be something I am not, because my teenage years forced me to make friends in an unwelcoming environment, that I have lost everything about me that has made me "me." And now everyone hates me. And I have no idea how to return to who I once was.

My final confession is that I will no longer try to be who you all thought I was. I will no longer be trying to be that girl who was a sarcastic, crass, unfeeling bitch but instead will try to return to that quiet, shy, brilliant minded, witty and kind girl that I used to be. Good people liked that girl. I never had to pretend for anyone of good character. So while my "friends" are off thinking I'm some sex-craving, loud, self-centered monster, I will be working once and for all to defeat my depression. I am going to turn my life around, find friends who appreciate me for me and pull me head out of the sand. My bitchy self is being dragged out to the dumpster tonight. I am returning to myself, I am returning to Juliana.

This is "Jules", signing off.