The effects of bullying can last a lifetime.

Courtesy of NPR:  

What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, right? Well, not when it comes to bullying. 

Some may still consider bullying a harmless part of growing up, but mounting evidence suggests that the adverse effects of being bullied aren't something kids can just shake off. The psychological and physical tolls, like anxiety and depression, can follow a person into early adulthood.
 
In fact, the damage doesn't stop there, a British study published this week in the American Journal of Psychiatry suggests. It actually lasts well into the adults' 40s and 50s. 

"Midlife ... is an important stage in life because that sets in place the process of aging," says Louise Arseneault, a developmental psychologist at King's College London and the study's senior author. "At age 50, if you have physical [and] mental health problems, it could be downhill from here." 

And health isn't the only thing to worry about. Chronic bullying's effect on a person's socioeconomic status, social life and even cognitive function can persist decades later, too, Arseneault's research suggests.

I was a bully. 

The thing was I did not realize it until I was in my early thirties.

I know that sounds a little hard to believe, but it's true.

When I was younger I was pretty passive, for the most part. A few scrapes here and there, nothing serious.

However when I hit my mid teens things took a turn.

Like a lot of teenagers I was full of testosterone driven energy, and conflicted emotions. And I did not know what to do with them.

So I started to workout every day with weights and practice martial arts for hours on end.

Instead of being an outlet for my energy, it instead turned me into a powder keg of aggression.

Though I felt no animosity towards those younger or weaker than myself, for those who I considered my physical equal all it took was one wrong move before fists would be flying.

How I justified that was by focusing on bullies.

My guidelines were if somebody hurt or intimidated others that made it open season on them. All I needed was to catch them in the act, or hear about it from somebody else, and I felt, not only justified, but obligated to "set things right."

By the time I made it to my senior year I got most of it out of my system, and simply coasted through the remainder on my reputation.

In fact my first two serious relationships after high school were somewhat based on this reputation, as the bad boy image I had cultivated was part of what attracted them to me. Even though after I graduated there were very few physical altercations.

It was my third serious relationship after high school where I received my reality check.

This was a thirty year old woman, trained in early childhood education, who was quite unimpressed with hearing about my exploits during my teen years, and after being regaled by my family with story after story, she seemed very pensive and quiet on the drive home.

Later when I asked what was wrong she said that she never knew I was a bully.

I became immediately defensive at that and told her she had it all wrong. I was a GOOD guy.

"Did you beat people up?"

"Well yes sometimes, but.."

"Were students in your school frightened of you?"

"Well maybe a few, but they....."

"Do you think that their fear of you had an effect on their school work, their self esteem, and their emotional health?"

"Well they were bad guys so..."

"If they were bad guys for intimidating those who could not defend themselves, and they could not defend themselves from you, then what does that make you?"

"Well I was...I mean they were....I only....."

Well fuck.

She was right. I HAD actively intimidated people who I identified as bullies, even IF what they had done was fairly minor, and would have sorted itself out with no involvement from me whatsoever.

I simply used their anti-social behaviors as an excuse for MY anti-social behaviors.

To be honest, I was angry at her for making me face that about myself. It meant that I had to go back and reevaluate everything I thought I knew about me.

But in the end I had to recognize the inconvenient truth, I was in fact a bully.

So though I have done a number of good, and selfless things, with my life since then, there is a group of men in their mid fifties who are, right now, walking around with emotional scars that I inflicted.

And you know what? That kind of sucks.