Celebrating 32 and so much more!

Today I turn 32. It’s not really a birthday milestone by any of the normal standards, but for me it is quite a milestone. It’s taken me thirty two years, but I’ve finally learned some important things. Many are as a result of one big thing, I’ve learned to become confident in my own skin and not worry about what other people think.

You might say big deal, but for me this really is a big deal, and let me explain why.

Growing up, I quickly learned that people can hurt you for the things they think they know about you. Whether that be something you said, did, or even something they came to their own conclusion on. So my method of dealing with this was keeping my mouth shut as much as possible. Letting things roll off. Letting people say horrible things about me and just letting it happen. I was a bystander pretending like none of this affected me. Let me tell you, even though I pretended and probably wasn’t very good at it, this all affected me very deeply.

So good, bad, or ugly, I rarely talked about myself, the things I was interested in, what was going on in my life. I hid pretty much anything other than superficial crap, because I was afraid of what people might think of me. Even worse I was afraid of what they might say and/or do to me.

I spent the better part of thirty years walking around afraid to do or say anything. Not knowing what might set people off, what might make people hate me, what might make them say nasty and horrible things to me and about me. And one day I looked up and realized I was completely miserable with my life. And the worst part, no one knew how miserable. They knew I wasn’t happy but not to what extent. No one knew that I had bottled up everything wonderful about myself, buried it in a trunk, locked it up, and threw away the key. I couldn’t be myself because what if people didn’t like me? What if what I said left me with no one? I couldn’t take that kind of rejection.

And you know what? I didn’t get any rejection, because I’d completely taken myself out of the game of life. I was getting worse than rejection from others, I was rejecting myself. And one day I looked up and wondered how I got to where I was and it seemed like an utter mystery.

And yet I had no idea how to fix it, or any idea if I even wanted to. I was perfectly content hiding from the world, and I wasn’t, all at the same time. I was a mess.

And then I started burying myself in books. Finding magical worlds I could hide in. And somewhere in that span of time, I found others who enjoyed those magical worlds too. I talked to those people, and they didn’t think I was crazy. I slowly started to open up. Let little bits of myself sneak out, but never so much that it might come back to haunt me. And never in real life, only online, with the protection of a computer screen and a million miles between me and the people inside that crazy place called the interwebs.

But this was just the beginning of my transformation. As I started to throw little bits of my real self out online, I still was very much closed off to the real world. I wasn’t ready to test it out in public. What if it backfired? I wouldn’t be able to hide what it did to me. My shell was much too thin. It would break far too easily.

With so much bottled inside, I still didn’t have an outlet for my feelings. I was buried in the pages of imaginary worlds, and between the pages of internet forums where I could only leak little pieces of myself.

And then one day I started writing. Not because it was an outlet, but because I was bored. I needed something to do, and writing worlds I could escape to seemed like a good idea. It was just messing around with names and symbolism at first, but it quickly transformed into ideas, lots of them. Crazy ones that would take over my brain and force me to put them on the page. And even though I never intended for writing to be an outlet, somehow it became exactly that. The emotions I couldn’t share with anyone else, came out in these characters that spilled onto the page.

And then something totally insane happened. I decided I needed to share my work, decided I needed to find out if I was wasting my time. See if I was onto something. And for some reason sharing my characters and their stories was a lot easier than sharing my own.

Honestly, I wanted someone to tell me I was awful, that I should give up and not even bother. That I was wasting my time. And at a time in my life when I tried more than anything to sabotage myself, I got the exact opposite. Okay well not the exact opposite, but I found a ton of encouragement. While many people in my life, my family and closest friends, had always been encouraging of what I did, this was the first time I’d gone into the world (or in this case the glorious interwebs) and gotten it from complete strangers. People didn’t jump down my throat and find things to make fun of, they built me up without even knowing it.

So I went back to the drawing board. I started to learn how to write. I took classes, I joined writing groups, and I worked toward finishing the book. I was all in. People saw my mood shifting. They saw how busy I was. They started asking what I was up to. Because I was on this new high, I told them. I’m writing a book. And the weirdest thing happened. People not only thought it was awesome, they supported me, they rooted me on. They took interest in me and started coming to me periodically to ask how things were going.

I slowly started to realize that maybe letting the world know who I really was, wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It wasn’t so bad, because not only were there people out there who cared, there were also people out there just like me. People who also enjoyed the same things I did. People that wore their nerdom proudly, like a badge of honor. And I wanted to be just like those people. So I pinned the nerd badge to my lapel and began to wear it proudly as well. And the more I did, the more people stood with me. The gravitated to my genuine sense of self.

Then this wonderful thing happened. Comic Con came to St. Louis last year. And I realized that there were proud geeks just like me that celebrated that out in public. That it was more than okay for me to do the same. I could not only be myself online, but I could be myself out in the real world. 

And even more amazing, last year at Less than Three, I found a similar experience. People just like me who were often afraid because they'd been beaten down as well. They'd been told they weren't cool and they'd shut themselves down too. And others had found ways to open back up. We all talked about how to stand up to people who beat others down, how to band together, not only to sympathize but to start making a difference. To start the seeds of change.

And in those two events I realized, I’d found my people. Found a world where it was okay to just be me. I’d arrived. And I’d found my confidence. The walls came crumbling down. I was finally me. I didn’t hold anything back. But beyond that, I stopped caring what other people thought because I knew there were people out there like me. There were people that liked me for me. And more importantly, for the first time in my life, I liked me as me.

But I didn’t stop there. Because there came a time when people started to challenge me. It was my childhood all over again. Just because I was an adult didn’t mean I was immune to bullying. It sucked. I was tired of being beat down. I was done keeping my mouth shut. Done letting things just roll off. I decided to let people know that what they were saying hurt, and it wasn’t okay. That the things they were saying did more than just hurt. They were detrimental because they were contributing to the stereotypes in the world. That what they said was preventing the world from changing and moving forward. Preventing the world from accepting others as they were. That there are infinite forms of wonderful in this world, and just because they are all different, doesn't mean one is any better or worse than another. And I wanted to help let the world know that.

Somewhere in learning to speak up for myself and others, the bad conversations began to end and the good, productive ones began. People started looking at what could change instead of who they could beat down. They stopped to think before they spoke. They wondered how the things they say might affect others. And that is a world I’m proud to live in, and a life I’m proud to have.

In all this, I’ve finally learned to be me and be happy with it. And I’m so much richer for it. So this birthday I celebrate all of that, the confidence, the ability to speak up, my nerdery, my writing, my life, and all the wonderful people in it that have been rooting me on along the way. I celebrate the person who finally found herself. Who finally came out of the shell and joined the world. I celebrate the emergence of me!

Less Than Three

Yesterday I attended one of the most AMAZING conferences of my life. And I've been to a lot of fantastic conferences. But this is the first time I can ever say a conference was life changing. Less Than Three has shown me so many things but most of all how far I've come since I was bullied.

When I heard almost a year ago that Heather Brewer was organizing an antibullying conference, I knew instantly that I had to be involved. Bullying was a large part of my life growing up. I wish it hadn't been, but it made me who I am today. At the signing Heather announced the conference, I approached her and said, I think this is an awesome idea, how do I get involved. She told me there would be signups for volunteers so I waited. I waited and waited and waited watching Heather's tweets over the last year about how the conference was coming together. And then she posted saying she was looking for volunteers. I jumped on the link and signed up right away. I was in and I was excited.

Last week I attended a volunteer meeting to find out what I would be helping out with. I volunteered to shepherd Sarah Bromley's panel on Cyberbullying which meant I got to spend the whole day with her and the other authors on the panel: Carrie Jones, Mari Mancusi, Shannon Messenger, and Lisa McMann. Despite knowing what job I had, I really had no idea what to expect from the day. Would it be empowering? Would it be emotional? Would it be crazy? Would it be fun? I had no clue what I was walking into but I was excited to be a part of something so important.

From Left to Right: Carrie Jones, Sarah Bromley, Mari Mancusi, Lisa McMann, and Shannon Messenger

The night before the event I was a mix of emotion but mostly still filled with excitement. Which meant I woke up every couple hours, wondering if I missed my alarm. But 5:30am came soon enough. I fumbled around in the dark and was out the door at 6:30am. A little after 7:00am I walked into the Spencer Road Branch Library. Volunteers were milling around in various stakes of zombie. I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself yet, so I chatted with some people and waited.

And then the authors arrived! That was my cue. I headed to the super secret author bunker and met the awesome authors I'd be hanging out with all day. Everyone was in good spirits and chatting. But when you get a room full of authors together, hilarity and crazy soon ensues. It started like this...

Me tweeting with the authors in the author bunker

But within minutes there was laughter and cartwheels. Yes CARTWHEELS! In a library!

But before I knew it the panels were starting. There were four panels throughout the day, Bullying in School, Self Bullying, Cyberbullying, and Bullies & LGBTQ. There was tons of uplifting messages and awesome advice that I shared over at Middle Grade Minded. But in this blog I want to focus on Heather Brewer's Keynote speech and how deeply it affected me.

Heather invited one of her very special minions, Jordan Brooks to talk about her experiences. Let me just say that Jordan is an extremely strong person and she hasn't had an easy go, but her message was powerful. She talked about her first memory of bullying and how she skipped her prom to go to a book festival. "What kind of person skips their prom to do that?" she said. To which one of the amazing authors in the front row yelled, "An awesome one!" But this was just the very beginning.

Heather Brewer giving her keynote speech

Heather took the stage and talked about her experiences growing up. She had a rough family life and a rough time in school. She didn't have any friends for a long time. She talked about how important it was to be yourself and that one day you would find your people. The people who appreciate you for who you are. And a large chunk of my people were in that room on Saturday.

But it wasn't until Heather started to speak about an instance where a girl started getting into her head about a crush she had, that things really started to hit home. Because a very similar thing happen to me. Only it was three someones and it is an event that I think about nearly every single day of my life. And it was in that moment that I started to remember things that I hadn't thought about in a long, long time.

I honestly don't remember the first time I was ever bullied. I was young though. I was always one of the three shortest kids in my grade. I was a good student, I was quiet, I loved my teachers, I was helpful, and I was over sensitive. You might say I was a bully's picnic. I reacted to EVERYTHING with lots of emotion. Is that a reason to pick on someone? No, but bullies look for reaction and oh did I ever give it to them.

In fourth grade, I sat next to this boy that liked to run his mouth a lot. But one day he decided he was going to sing at his desk while we were having quiet work time. I don't remember exactly what we were studying but it was history and it had something to do with Tuskegee Institute because he sat next to me repeatedly chanting Tuskegee, Tuskegee, Tuskegee Institute over and over and over again.

I have ADD and while I didn't know I had it at the time, all noise was extremely distracting. And while I realize he had every right to chant, I also had every right to silence. So after repeatedly asking the kid to stop, I took it to the next level.

I approached the teacher and told him that I couldn't focus cause the boy sitting next to me wouldn't shut up. The teacher asked what he was saying and I told him what he was chanting. The next thing I knew this teacher was leading the class in a rousing rendition of the chant Tuskegee, Tuskegee, Tuskegee Institute. THE WHOLE CLASS! While I loved this teacher and he was a big joker, this time he'd taken the joke too far. It was as if the entire class had been laughing at me simultaneously with my teacher as the lead. I lost it. I think it was the first time I'd really cried and thrown a tantrum in front a large group of people.

I can't say for certain, but I think that event opened the flood gates for the bullies. In fifth grade, the kids teased me saying my mom bought my clothes at Walmart. It wasn't true. I didn't own a single item of clothing from the store and had never set foot in a Walmart but since one kid said it, that made it real. I didn't have name brand clothes from the Limited or the Gap and therefore wasn't cool. That stung a lot because I was being judged on what I was wearing. Really kids should have been glad I didn't come to school naked but that's neither here nor there.

There was more teasing throughout the year. In my anger from all the bullying, I even said something awful about a close friend of mine when she was within earshot. I thought it would make me cooler and make me feel better. It didn't do either. And while one mean comment doesn't make you a bully, I instantly felt like one. I'm still friends with this person today, but I've never mentioned that day. I hope one day to apologize properly because she never deserved that.

In sixth grade, the prank calls and trick three way calls started. There was an instance where a girl called me and told me a boy liked me. After many questions, I fell for it. I developed a crush on the guy. Turns out, I was in a three way call with her and another girl, and it was all a big joke. The boy called me and told me he didn't like me that way. And these girls had cooked up the scheme because we were newly assigned lab partners. They thought we'd make a cute couple. Too bad me and my embarrassment had to sit next to him for the next few months in science class.

Over the course of junior high, I shifted through numerous groups of friends. Trying to "find my people". I didn't find them. I only found hateful words and comments. Things got way worse before they got better. I was sexually harassed on the bus in seventh grade. Because I was in so many bad situations, my mom probably had the vice principal on speed dial by that point. She called on most instances I went through. This was the time the vice principal chose not to believe her. I told her exactly what happened and how uncomfortable it made me feel and she repeated it to the vice principal. He was ready to ignore it because it didn't happen on school property. Thankfully my mom likes to raise a stink!

And in a brief shining glimmer of hope, he said he would contact the bus company and see if they had film of it. That year they had started installing cameras in the buses. Turns out they happened to have a camera on my bus that day and while they couldn't see me in the film because the bus seats are tall and I was so short, they could see the boy in the aisle and what he was doing. The story lined up and he was kicked off the bus for a while.

But the next day his older sister got on the bus, got in my face and yelled at me for getting her brother in trouble. Saying her mom didn't have time to drive him to and from school because she had to work. I didn't have a response for her at the time except for impending waterworks. If I could go back to that moment, my response now would be "Well, maybe he should of thought about that before he did what he did." In this case, the bully tried to turn it on me like it was my fault and I had brought this on myself. I hadn't. And there is never an excuse for bullying or retaliation.

But that wasn't even by far the worst day of my life. That came in eighth grade when I was in Mr. McMonigle's science class. Mr. McMonigle had just redone the seating chart in class. I'd always been in the front because I was short and couldn't see. In this long narrow classroom, he moved me to the sixth row. There was one student behind me and that was it. I couldn't see the board and I was miserable back there. But I never thought it could get more miserable than not seeing the board. Sadly I was so very wrong.

One day Mr. McMonigle was teaching, I don't even remember what, but I was trying to pay attention. Until I heard a voice to my left. "Cracked over." It was a clear jab at my last name but what did that even mean? I turned and glared at the boy then returned to taking notes. But he didn't stop. Crack head came next. Then the boy behind me and the boy to my right joined in. Crack addict, crack baby, test tube baby, now the insults were flying from three sides. I tried so hard to ignore it. I tried so hard not to cry. But the voices were echoing from three sides. I told myself over and over again that I wouldn't let it get to me but it did. It ate away at me. With each word a piece of my soul fell to the floor. Until I couldn't take it anymore. I left everything on my desk and bolted from the room. This was not something I EVER did. I always asked permission for everything, I always followed the rules, I was a model student. I made it past all the lab tables and ten feet into the hall before Mr. McMonigle stopped me.

He asked me what was going on. With tears streaming down my face and between hysterical gasps, I told him what they were doing, what they were saying to me. He told me to wait in the hall and went back into the room. I don't remember what he said but I remember him yelling at the entire class, in the harshest voice I'd ever heard. All because of what had happened. All because he cared enough to drop everything including his lesson and his classroom full of students to come talk to me, one student. I honestly don't know what I would have done if I got more than 10 feet down that hallway but I think Mr. McMonigle might have saved my life that day.

I was lucky enough to have parents that cared and teachers that listened. Some kids aren't so lucky. High School wasn't a picnic either but I started to find the things I loved to do. I made some real friends that wouldn't turn on me at a moments notice. But it would be a very long time before I wasn't afraid to tell people about myself. To not be afraid to hide parts of myself for fear of what people might think. To stand up for myself. I was 28 years old before I was comfortable in my own skin. Before I stopped worrying about what other people thought of me. Before I started really living my life.

It was no coincidence that it was around this time that I started writing. It was a time in which I'd found books and I'd found my people. People that loved to read and write and that didn't judge me. A community full of people just like me. The writing community is so incredibly supportive and for that I am so unbelievably grateful. I can honestly say I'm more happy now than I've ever been in my entire life. I'm not carrying around the bag of stress and worry about saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. I'm just me and that's enough.

And Less Than Three made me realize just how far I've come. How strong I've become. How I've found myself. How I can be myself. How I've found my people! Less Than Three are my people!

Thank you to everyone who attended Less Than Three and made yesterday so amazing and special. And to Heather, thank you so much for making this happen. Less Than Three meant more to me than you may ever know. I'm already looking forward to next year!

The Less Than Three Authors

The Awesome Less Than Three Volunteers

On Bullying - It Gets Better

It's Bullying Awareness Week. So I wanted to take a moment to talk about my experiences with bullying and how I overcame it.

When I was younger I was bullied. Quite a bit. I never knew if it was because I am Jewish, or was small, or am smart, or was a goody-two-shoes or am a nerd or because of my last name or for any number of other reasons or just because. But I did know, even from a young age, that kids are cruel. Well, not just kids, people in general. Regardless, all of those things are a part of me, and I was bullied because I was trying to be myself. I won't go into too many specific details, but just so you have a small idea, I was called names, harassed in numerous forms on nearly a daily basis, and even physically bullied once or twice. I spent a decent chunk of my young life in tears, which only brought on more torture. And I know by no means was this the worst case of bullying ever in existence but that thought didn't and still doesn't make it feel better.

Boy meets World on Anne Frank and Antisemitism

The point is, anyone can be bullied for any number of reasons. When you say things that criticize who a person is or what they stand for then you are bullying. Just check out that video from one of my favorite shows growing up, Boy Meets World. It makes a great point about how something as seemingly harmless as a bad name can lead to something much much bigger.

Words hurt. Plain and simple. We can choose to ignore them, but let's be honest it doesn't make them hurt any less. But it's how we hear those words and whether or not we choose to let them affect us that really defines who we are as a person. And we don't always have to know exactly who that is, whether we are 10, 100 or somewhere in between. We are constantly in search of who we really are, and that's perfectly okay!

Today, I'm 30 years old, a Rocket Scientist (Aerospace Engineer), a writer, a giant nerd, and numerous other things. But it wasn't until recently that I really owned who I was and became comfortable with it. I was constantly worried about what people would think of me, constantly worried about the things I said (which isn't always a bad thing but would often cause me to clam up and shut down) and constantly just worried about everything. And you know what? That made me afraid of a lot of things including myself. I was afraid to be myself, and I was miserable. I let the words people said about me hold more weight than my own beliefs and views of myself. Their words stood as a wall between who I was and who I was really meant to be.

Once I stopped caring about what other people thought and started caring about what I thought of myself, I was able to open my eyes and find out who I really am as a person. And I discovered it is someone I truly love. Even better it was someone my family, friends, and those close to me really loved too. I was much happier and it showed. People noticed I had a smile on my face and it was because I was just being me.

Whether it's Anti Bullying month in October or National Bullying Awareness Week (Nov 12-17, 2012) or just any other day, time, or second, bullies don't rest and neither should we. If you are victim of bullying TELL SOMEONE, and keep on telling someone until you find someone who listens. I'm here today as a person who is comfortable in my own skin in large part because I constantly told people about what happened and I had a great support system. My parents and teachers listened and when they could, they did something, and that made all the difference. Especially just knowing that someone was listening and someone cared. So if you are a parent, teacher, friend, etc. of someone who is being bullied, PLEASE LISTEN, and stand up for that person. There's power in numbers.

Trust me, things get better. I moved passed all the hurt and realized I am a lot more than the nasty words people say and the horrible things they do. Those words can only hurt me and define me if I let them. And I don't! I am not afraid to show my true personality to the world. In doing so, I found myself - a confident successful woman, a rocket scientist, a writer, a reader, a Jew, a friend, a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a dancer, a podcaster, a nerd, and on and on and on.  

OWN WHO YOU ARE! Every single part of yourself. Don't leave anything out. Don't be ashamed or embarrassed to just be you. You will be a much happier person for it because you aren't expending excess energy trying to mask a part of yourself. That kind of stress weighs a person down. And when you do finally own who you are, surround yourself with people who like that person, and don't worry about those that don't. As much as we like to think we can please everyone in the world it's just not possible. So don't be upset if everyone doesn't like who you are because their are plenty of people that do, you are not alone. If you are reading this consider yourself a friend of mine. I promise to embrace you with kindness. You won't find any judgement or criticism here.

I hope that one day I can repay the favor of all those people who stood up for me, whether in kindness to them or in helping others. Because if it wasn't for them, I never would have had the opportunity to find myself - my REAL self. For that, I am eternally grateful!

If you are looking for a way to make a difference and combat bullying check out the <3 Less Than Three Anti-Bullying Conference Facebook Group. If you can, make plans to attend the Anti-Bullying Conference Saturday, October 19, 2013 at the Spencer Road Branch Library in St. Peters, MO. I'll be there and I hope you can come too!