I’ve always stood up to bullies. For some reason, they’ve never bothered me. Every once in a while one has started, but after receiving my cold, hard, obviously unafraid look, they stop. It’s even a bit amusing, as the gleam in their eyes dims, the mocking curve of their mouth turns down, they look down, like a child who’s been “caught” by a grown-up.

It’s been decades since I didn’t “pass”, but even then, I suppose that I just didn’t appear to be someone who would “take it”?

I don’t really know. I’d tell people who do get bullied how to deal with it the same way that I do, but I don’t think that it can be taught. Apparently, it takes a lifetime of experience.

Even though I don’t always feel 100% confident, I suppose that I’m pretty good at faking it.

I just know that, having grown up in the 60s and 70s, pretending to be typically male, I learned to absolutely never show fear, no matter how devastatingly frightened I was on the inside. This led to alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide attempts, and, well…generally, a difficult, and often perilous life.

I am incredibly relieved, gratified, and hopeful that young people who are struggling with the same thing that I was, can, more and more, have an easier path.

The reason for this growing enlightenment is people like you, Martie. Thank you for all that you do.

Myself, I’m tired. My physical health can’t take a lot of passionate advocacy. I do what I can, when I can.

Thank you Martie 😍😘😇🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼