....but words will never hurt me!

Sticks and stones was the first "life lesson" that was ever taught to me. Sure, I got the lecture that you need to share and be kind to people, but when I think back to what really stuck with me (because sharing and being kind didn't), it was that catchy little phrase- passed down from generation to generation, used to sooth the minds of the hurt and strengthen the souls of the weak.

Unfortunately, the jerk who made it up only happened to be good at rhyming and not actually defending himself. He lied to everyone who believed it. (I'm just assuming it's a "he". No woman would have ever told a legendary lie like that). And unfortunately, I was gullible enough to fall for it.

Rewind- the year is 1989. I'm in kindergarten, wearing a Rainbow Bright t-shirt and bouncing around with my side pony-tail and buck teeth. Enter Megan: a 300-lb, five year-old with a vendetta to rule Ms. Reardon's AM Kindergarten class.

I did everything in my power to please her - I drew her pictures using her favorite crayon (which changed every time I presented a drawing to her), painted her name with every color available at the paint station, and even made her a macaroni necklace. She hated it all. With every effort I took to be her friend, she made that much more of an effort to cut me down. I began being teased mercilessly.

That's when my mom decided to sit me down and have the "Sticks and Stones" talk - which by the way, I will NOT be having with my children- and convinced me that all I would have to say was this rhyme, and the teasing would stop. It would be like a magic spell. And then a unicorn would fly out of her ass and make the world a better place.

The next day, I walked into kindergarten, armed with my new ammo, confidently prepared to face whatever words that happened to fall out of Megan's fat, five year-old head. As expected, the teasing began, and that was my cue to whip out the rhyme of death:

"Sticks and Stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me!"

She rolled her eyes and began laughing. Wait what? Laughing? Where was this unicorn? I repeated louder this time. Maybe she just didn't hear me right.

"STICKS AND STONES WILL BREAK MY BONES BUT WORDS WILL NEVER HURT ME!!"

She laughed even harder. What was with this chick? I couldn't believe it. She was Murky and Lurky incarnated! When she finally calmed down, she managed to say, "What. Did your mommy tell you to say that?"

I was shocked. She was pure evil. The teasing not only continued, it got worse. And she got others to join in on it. It continued into first grade, even though Megan was in a completely different class. This meant, she actually went out of her way to ruin my life.

That was the year I began wearing glasses which only added to the list of ailments she seemed to tease me about. I would have welcomed the standard four-eyes cut down, but I was being told that I was "totally cool.........NOT!" Damn you, 1991.

That's when my mother's Sticks and Stones stint decided to take steroids. Her advice went over the edge- she took me to see my school counselor, Mrs. Cousins. Her name says it all: Inbred. She was totally out of touch with elementary school politics, not to mention the human race. Why should I be listening to any of her advice? Because my mommy told me to.

I went for a few sessions by myself so that she could determine "the problem," however inbreds go about doing that. She somehow convinced me that I needed to face Megan and tell her how she's hurt my feelings. I was being set up for disaster. Who did this mouth-breather think she was?

Much to my dismay, the day came when Mrs. Cousins tricked me- I thought I was having yet another session by myself, but when I walked into the room, Megan was seated in the mini-chair where I usually sat. What the hell was this? Mrs. Cousins motioned for me to sit next to her, which I did warily. Megan looked at me with disgust only a six-year old could muster.

"Well. Don't you have anything you want to say to Megan?" said Mrs. Cousins.

"What?" I was supposed to say something to her??

"How about, I'm afraid of you." she prompted.

Was this woman seriously trying to ruin me at Orca Elementary? Had she no idea that she was forcing me to commit suicide?

After the looming realization that I wasn't leaving the room without completely humiliating myself, I began trying to work up to saying the god-awful sentence.

"I-I'm...." I began.

"Come on! You can say it!"

"I-I'm afrrr...."

"You can do it, yes you can!"

"I'm afraid of you." I spat it out just to get the knuckle-dragger off my back, but then immediately and sheepishly looked up at Megan who was sure to administer her infamous eye-roll and high pitched cackle right on cue.

I saw her eyes begin to roll, and was waiting for it, but then she stopped. It was as if it were the first time she noticed an adult in the room. All she said was "okay." And that was all. Mrs. Cousins, feeling her job was done, released us back into the wild, congratulating us on a job well done. The door was still clicking into place when Megan turned around and said, "You're afraid of me? Good! It's going to stay that way!"

Screw Murky and Lurky. The bitch was channeling Beelzebub himself.

The teasing persisted- the only difference was, I stopped telling my mom about it because her solutions seemed to increase how NOT cool I was.

But the day came when revenge was mine. In third grade, Megan and I were fatefully put in the same class. By this time, she was 500 pounds, most of it gained in her head. I had decided to stop wearing my glasses, which my grandparents bought because my parents had been too poor to afford these at the time, and let my eyesight go bad because I was sick of her taunts and teases.

On this one day in particular, we had been having a discussion about KUBE 93.3, the cool, hip hop music station at the time. I chimed in how I loved Will Smith and DJ Jazzy Jeff. Megan said, "Whatever. You listen to old people music. You so poor, you don't even own a radio."

Music is still to this day, a passion of mine. Nobody fucks with me and my music. That was it. That was the comment that threw me over the edge. I sat there glaring at her, my eight year-old heart beating right out of my chest, my blind eyes boring right through the fat in her head.

"What are you lookin' at?" She torted.

"YOU'RE UGLY FACE!!" I screamed back.

The room fell silent. Until one of the other cool kids began cracking up and joined with me. "Your ugly face! Your ugly face!" I couldn't believe it - a cool kid actually liked what I said to her! She was finally on the receiving end.

It was a choir of angels chanting a hymn, "Your ugly face! Your ugly face!" I nearly stood up in my chair as if conducting them.

Megan showed an emotion I had never seen on her before: devastation. And on mine: VICTORY! That one comment stopped the bullying from then on.

I had finally found the magic spell that worked on bullies: stand up for yourself!

Until the next life lesson...sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will ruin your social life.