Being teased is a good thing.

DISCLAIMER: This might be a really cheesy post to some, but I can assure you, it’s sincerely written.

Please skip if you feel like you’re going to gag.. I don’t want to have to get a bill in the mail for a new laptop or something because you tossed your cookies all over your company’s keyboard/computer.

The Demoiselles had a great post called: My Long Nose, by a guest blogger named Freya.

Here’s an excerpt: Flickr “gossip”


Five years ago, around this time, I sat with my friend Lola in the deserted computer room listening to music.

I was browsing files and I stumbled upon a certain file named “My Long Nose”, I clicked it and then to my horror, I saw that it was a picture of mine taken with the webcam by Lola weeks before.

She hadn’t deleted it when I asked her to. She sent it to the senior boys who in turn played a joke by titling the file as “My Long Nose” and of course making it easily accessible to everyone.

The idea of the whole school laughing at me made me cry at once.

Our wise and gentle computer professor noticed this and said, ”Why are you crying for this, dear? Do you know that long-nosed girls are actually very beautiful?”

“Really?” I blinked.

“Yes”, he said, “And I’ll delete this file for you. See, problem solved.”

Later that day, I asked Lola whether long-nosed girls are really beautiful. “Of course not. He said so just to comfort you.”

Read the rest here.

What a short, but heartbreaking kind of story that I could relate because I was teased a LOT as a kid.

Being chubby, with HUGE thick glasses, braces, pimples, awkwardly weird looking.. *groan* The works.

(Grown out of all of that now.. LOL! Thank goodness. Some people can’t even recognize me from when I was a kid. They just don’t believe it’s me, and that I was
that ugly….. erg..)

I hated being teased when I was younger, but you know what, in hindsight it worked out for the best.

My teacher always used to repeat: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

I HATED and STILL HATE that idiotic rhyme.

And my 13-year old self always sat there, doubting, listened to those words and thinking: But then why do I feel so bad? How can I feel so wrong?

How could words cut so deep into me and make me feel sad and cry if they aren’t supposed to hurt me?

They hurt, and they will always stay as a scar on my psyche, long after any bruises or cuts have healed.

But as a I got older, I got wiser …*gasp*… and I realized that they say that to try and cushion the pain, to make it go away by ignoring it, thinking that it’ll make everything better.

And it actually makes it WORSE.

Ignoring anything (including finances, or your relationship) is asking for trouble, because it just gets to be a bigger and bigger problem until you feel overwhelmed to the point where you wake up with nightmares of debt collectors calling you at 2 a.m. (never happened to me, but I’ve heard stories).

You have to acknowledge the problem up front. Head on. Balls to the wall.

Anyway, as for my situation, I had no one to really lean on when I was a kid.

My siblings.. no.

My parents?…no.

My friends?… yeah. A bit, but I was pretty private and quiet as a kid (no really!) and I just bottled up the pain and pretended everything was fine that people called me ugly behind my back and made bets about who would go on a date with me as a dare.

And now?

All I can think is that they have no idea what they were missing because when I finally realized many years later (around the age of 19, maybe) that it was okay to acknowledge that words hurt, and that I felt true physical pain from what was said to me as a kid, I instantly straightened up my back and felt better.

Kind of like self therapy over the years, helped by angry music and books. (If I told you the bands I listen/listened to, you may never believe me.. They were pretty rough!!)

And even to this day, I kind of wonder why parents and teachers refuse to acknowledge that words HURT by repeating that STUPID rhyme when kids come back softly saying that a kid in their class called them fat, or ugly, or big-nosed. (What up, Freya!?)

I sound like a teenager right now, but I promise on the tail of my favourite tedddy bear, that I will NEVER tell my children that stupid rhyme for as long as I live.

It made me feel ignored, pathetic and insignificant for 6 years until I faced it on my own.

But do I regret being teased?


I think everyone deserves to be teased a bit, so that they understand how hurtful words can be and they do a double take before saying something stupid.

Being teased is a good thing.

It made me grow a tougher hide, I worked harder in school (shielding myself with brains), steeled myself to pretend (and later, to really internalize and believe) that I didn’t care what ANYONE thought of me.

I retreated into an exploration of myself, reading more books, building up my knowledge and eventually finding a kind of inner peace and maturity within myself (finally) at the age of 24 …(I’m 26 now)… that I think many people never have the pleasure of reaching.

I really believe that I don’t need anyone to validate my looks, personality and intelligence.. because I’m the judge of that now.

And I am also self-confident enough in myself to understand that my youth is fleeting (but still to be enjoyed until it goes.. alas), and that my personality and brains will always remain with me, well into my golden years.

So if I improve and build on what will always be with me.. how can I go wrong? 🙂

And that’s something I hope everyone can find in themselves one day. Or at least, work towards:

To just be happy and grateful for what they look like, to understand that everything that has happened in their life, has shaped them to be the person that they are NOW — to change anything, is to want to change yourself and it may be for the worse, and not for the better.

It’s why I don’t believe in cosmetic plastic surgery. It just fixes the outside, but leaves the inside in a mess.

All you’ve got to do is remember that not all beautiful people are as self-confident, and as at peace with themselves as they seem to be.

Some are VERY insecure, which is why they can be so nasty, even to the poor bank clerk — they can’t help themselves.

Case in point:

My sister was telling me about this girl in her graduate class who is apparently DROP DEAD GORGEOUS. But she’s quite mean.

Actually, really mean to people she doesn’t like, but sweet to those she considers to be in her good book.

We’re talking porcelain skin, blue eyes, perfect blonde curly hair, perfect skin, teeth & lips, slammin’ body.. the whole package.

But after describing and gushing about how gorgeous and sweet this girl is to her (but only to select people, a group my sister felt privileged to be a part of).. my sister thoughtfully remarked:

” But you know what? She’s really insecure.

I remember this one time, we went on a field trip. And we all had to wear these disgusting, UGLY hard hats, glasses & boots.

They were really hideous.

Everyone put them on and laughed at each other.. but she refused to put on the gear until the VERY LAST SECOND.

And even then.. she kept repeating: “Okay everyone.. I’m going to wear the hat and glasses now. Don’t laugh. I’m going to look REALLY stupid. And my hair will be flat after. I’m going to smell like old man sweat from the hat. Don’t laugh, okay?… Okay.. it’s going on now..”

She said it went on for a good 3 minutes with everyone encouraging her while she was mustering up the courage to put on a hard hat and glasses:

“Oh no, you’ll look fine!

Go ahead, we all have it on.. you’ll look great. You look awesome. You’ll always be gorgeous even with a garbage bag on. ”


My sister also said she noticed the girl was always checking her reflection, trying to be perfect (as taught by her Mom), and trying to be a sweet, beautiful girl who is perfectly turned out, manicured and coiffed.

And all I could say was: It must be horribly sad and exhausting to be so beautiful from birth.

So being butt ugly as a kid? Best thing that ever happened to me.

Teased beyond belief for being chubby, ugly, with crooked teeth and bad skin? Wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.

I’m a fine wine, y’all. I just get better with age.

And you?



About the Author

Just a girl trying to find a balance between being a Shopaholic and a Saver. I cleared $60,000 in 18 months earning $65,000 gross/year. Now I am self-employed, and you can read more about my story here, or visit my other blog: The Everyday Minimalist.