A place for a


Growing up without a father – Part 3: Back home

After everything, there was my chance to get back home. A light at the end of the tunnel.

I convinced my mother by acting super nice for two weeks. I would so fucking make her wish for it that she would disregard all advice from the group supervisors and take me back. I was free. In a way.

Curiously, I have never been bullied. As I have failed to see the encouraging aspects of my interactions with women, maybe in the same way I have failed to even notice anyones attempt to bully me. Maybe I just wasn’t important enough. Maybe I was lucky not to be the weakest one. Maybe my classmates were simply … more mature. Maybe they knew I would have kicked their teeth in, or tried to. But I think I wouldn’t have, if they would have been stronger and in the majority. I was a bully sometimes, but that also makes me a coward – to a stronger person, I seldom hold my ground.

When I think about it, I always kinda was part of the crowd. I myself would pick on the weak ones. Sometimes I would be the class clown. My relationships with my classmates were superficial, but there was a basic sympathy and respect. Sounds like a symptom of overt narcissism. But nobody would have ever voted me to be the class speaker. Maybe I could’ve been that guy if I had had a great physique to command respect from guys and attention from girls, not the fat guy with a high voice. Who knows. In the end I guess I was just somewhat outside of the system. Not important enough to be bullied, not interesting enough to be engaged. And probably not even engageable.

A later friend of mine was one of the guys who had been bullied. Put upside down into trash containers. It’s something that has never been a reality to me. In fact, I never even saw it happen to others in such an extreme way. I do think that it is true. Life is what you make of your circumstances. Imagine this: You fool around and tease other people with little observations about them. People laugh. And then there’s this one guy who will look down and become quiet and insecure. Nobody would have had him for a loser if he wouldn’t have reacted that way. Consequently, you may think he will thaw. So you continue, but he keeps getting worse. Things get out of control and he ends up in the trash. Maybe that’s how it happens.

Just like the hundred girls who smile at me on the streets and may be wondering why I don’t come say Hi. Because inside myself, her smile is like an attack. Inside myself, it brings up the memories of failure. While any normal person would just enjoy the smile and reciprocate. And the hundred girls may keep wondering why I wouldn’t take the chance. Because I’m not fat anymore.


I came to visit a grammar school at home for one more year, the 10th grade. The class was super integrated and had been together for five years. Amazement and shock had me when I saw people my age talk about sex openly and uncaringly in front of the class. I was an outsider and spent my time with the other outsiders, two losers who would, to my great annoyance, talk about World of Warcraft at every single occasion. One of these guys was so obsessed with it that he failed the complete year. Once more I fell in love with a girl I had never talked to after she had given me the slightest bit of positive attention. I wrote her anonymous love poems, later emails, then confessed over ICQ, a chat messenger. She said she didn’t want a boyfriend at the time. Seriously, what was I thinking. I never spoke to her! I was acting like an idiot, shy and ashamed! How would it have been supposed to work, even if she had liked me more. Yeah, indeed, I would actually accuse her of dishonesty, at least in my thoughts. Why, oh why, can’t she be honest. These are the perks of being a covert narcissist. Well, idiot, it’s a game and you’re playing it so damn wrong.

I almost failed the year due to Latin and exited the grammar school to visit a technical school where I spent another two years. Again I would be friends with some shy outsider guy. Again I would be proud of it. Hey, he’s the underdog. Again I would fall in love with a girl in class. But this fucking time, it was useful at least. Something happened in my mind. I was a 260 pound monster who had vainly attempted to lose weight a few times. I looked into the mirror on a very important day and something entered my mind: Why not be thin? It was a simple question and it went further. My brain tricked itself into not believing, but knowing that I could be with her if I lost enough weight. I realized consciously that this wasn’t the truth, but I was in a flow. No trickery was necessary. There was not the question how to lose weight – that is a primitive and unnecessary question once you decide to do it. I just did it. Ate healthy and very little. Lost 80 pounds within half a year. Not once doubted I would make it. Once I did, I kept the weight down.

During the time, I got the opportunity to work on the website of a local automobile interest group. With time, the organization grew and my seldom paid endeavor turned into a job I kept for 8 years, until the end of 2014. Thanks to this, I decided to study web development at a private school. I didn’t learn much new, but I greatly enjoyed being part of a group I finally shared an interest with. It was possibly the longest period of time in my life during which I was somewhat content and felt worthy. Helping the others in class came naturally since I was lightyears ahead. Yeah, fell in love again, successlessly. Who cares. When I finished the school, I was immediately offered a job as a tutor and supervisor, a common practice at that place. I gladly took the opportunity and spent two years bringing up and teaching new classes of students to become web developers while doing my Bachelor of Arts.

0 votes
  • Riz

    Interesting that you have never been bullied. For me, this was a devastating part of my childhood. I think other boys could feel the feminine nature I must have had…

    In fact, I have a theory I might write an article about. Since my mother controlled every aspect of my life, this included my hygiene. I remember she used to buy me the girliest smelling shampoos. It was literally like I was wearing perfume.

    I often think back that some bullies might have been triggered by this … they literally “smelled a girl” or smelled “dainty weakness” and therefore I was a perpetual target of harassment.

    • Haha, jeez, perfumy. How humiliating.

      I was bullied once, when I was sent to a place to lose weight. The other boys were bigger and stronger than me and yeah, they also did not like my ‘abnormal’ nature. You know, the women at school always say ‘Calling someone a son of a bitch is an inexcusable insult’. They called me a son of a bitch. My brain went on shock and I ran to the woman there who was taking care of us. She shrugged it off and I was devastated. I ran back to my room and the boys came around and shouted son of a bitch at me. One came in and punched me in the face. I was paralyzed.

      Had I experienced this on a daily basis, man, that would have had the potential to break me, for sure.

      I have a theory about bullying. I think that it basically is just a normal male interaction. But when another male fails to respond in a healthy way and show some backbone, the normal harmless interaction turns into further provocation etc. Part of it may be a mechanism to provoke a man into violence, so that he will express himself finally. But I may be saying this out of ignorance, having never had it too bad in that regard.