This blog is just turning into a place to complain.

I take that back. Cause let’s be honest, hasn’t it always been a place to complain?
Today this boy in my class came up to me in the hallway during our break. He stood really close to me. Then he started tapping on my phone. Tap tap tap tap. 
“Why are you messing up, why are you messing up, why are you messing up?” he kept saying. 
I just stood there. I felt uncomfortable. He was too close to me. Is he a freshman? Has he not seen my ring? And he was in my bubble. He was touching my things. The only thing I did right in the situation, perhaps, was that I didn’t give him any reaction back. 
“Why are you messing up, why are you messing up?”
Finally I said under my breath “Hör auf damit” and then realized it was the wrong language. 
Then he laughed and walked back into class. 
This same guy a couple weeks ago kicked the bottom of my foot up (what’s that called? Not a flat tire…) while I was walking out of class one day. He bugs me. He makes me super uncomfortable. 
I wrote Spencer a text about how effing annoying this guy is and went back into class. I didn’t say anything the rest of the time in class.
Now I feel like shit. 
He’s probably a freshman flirting like he’s still in eighth grade. And it made me uncomfortable that he was flirting. 
But what made me more uncomfortable is that he’s kind of bullying. And I didn’t stand up for myself. No, I don’t think he knows he’s “bullying” in fact I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt, but I should of stood up for myself. Reasonable responses to his actions would have been to say “Eff off.” “Go away.” “Stop.” “Please stop.” “You’re annoying me.” 
And I didn’t do any of that. 
Now I’m still thinking about it because I’m angry. I’m angry at myself. Because even when you’re an adult, people still treat you like shit. People still try to control you and walk all over you. And I let them. Often. Too often. I’m too nice and I hate being nice.
*I wrote this twenty minutes ago and right after I finished the last line I just burst into tears on my couch right before I was supposed to take Spencer to his class. He held me for a few minutes and then I drove him to class. Now I’m back. I’m still so upset by this. I read over everything I said and it doesn’t even seem all that bad. But it just hit me so hard.*
I think sometimes one little thing like that sets off everything. It makes me feel like the biggest weakling, you know? I think about how in Germany this crazy guy kept following me and he’d start calling me all the time crying. All the time. And I didn’t even know him–I just met him on a long bus ride one time and was an idiot 16-year old and gave him my number. And then he’d leave me voicemails asking why I didn’t call him and why I’m not answering his phone. 
I know you know the story. At least most of you. But Josa was the one that called him for me and screamed at him over the phone to never call me back. I’m so glad I had her. But I wish I could have done it for myself. I wish I would have said the first time I ever saw him, “No, you can’t have my number. Goodbye.”
I think there’s a lot of things going on in my life right now where I constantly have to be on my toes and watch out for myself. And maybe I constantly have to be on my toes now so that I won’t have to be later. So I can just say what I want when I want. I’m so sick of caring about other people’s shitty emotions.
I think I’m done now. I just feel like a big fat weakling today.


  1. I’m so sorry that happened! I am sure it is because I deal with special needs kids all the time, but as you were describing the young man, I was running through a list of possible disabilities he might have. Autism? Schizophrenia? ADD? Then I realized no matter what is going on with him, it isn’t right in how he is behaving towards you.

    I think you might need to make a plan on what to say the next time he touches anything of yours, like “I don’t want you touching that. It is mine.” If he does have some sort of mental thing going on (which is most likely), you need to draw your personal space bubble very darkly because he won’t get it unless you spell it out, directly and clearly. It isn’t about being nice or mean, just clear communication.

    And yeah, those kinds of situations are the worst to deal with. I struggle with them all the time and I am a heck of a lot older than you. I have much more experience with this sort of uncomfortable stuff and I still find myself freezing and not responding right away. It is definitely a learned skill.

    You are doing fine. You are not weak and there is nothing wrong with being nice. The world needs more people like you, not less. The hard part is learning firm boundaries and how to state them in a polite, clear way to complete strangers who get into your space. It sounds like in both instances, you were dealing with young men with mental issues way above your pay grade. That is hard stuff.

  2. I agree with Heather. I would be more direct: “I want you to stay away from me. Do you understand? Don’t touch my things. Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Just stay the hell away.”

Comments are closed.