I’m not big built, quite slim. And am a quiet personality, non-confrontational, quite gentle and polite in my mannerisms. Not a fighter. So, in 1977, when I began High School, I realised I had a problem. I became aware there were bullies, out to physically hurt people. And I realised they were weighing me up as a possible victim. They would keep their distance, but I could see them looking over at me and whispering to each other. I knew it would only be a matter of time before they cornered me somewhere, alone.
Because bullies are cowards, and always target the weaker individuals, the only way out of this dangerous predicament was to build myself up into a tough man, also, so they would leave me alone. My dad had some weights and a Bullworker, so I began working out regularly, and over a short time managed to pack on a bit of muscle. Also, I started to wear Doc Marten boots. And I cut my hair into a much shorter style. And learned a little Karate. This was from 11-years-old.
Basically, I transformed myself into a “hard man”. It was the only way I was going to survive five years of senior school. I had to adopt a tough guy persona, and that lasted decades. Because I took on this iron persona, it became my normal self, my everyday self, and I lost the person I really was. The real me is quick to smile and laugh, helpful and caring, kind and considerate, likes to curl up with a good book. But because my only way to survive was to become brusque and aggressive, that took over as my primary personality.
And it’s a horrible way to live, as the “Hard Man”. I’m 53 now, and only now am I shedding that heavy battered iron armour of Survival. Only now, after half a Century, is the nice gentle little boy, that I once was, coming, tentatively, back to the fore.
God-damn, I’ve lost my train of thought. I’ll just end by saying that it’s a terrible thing for a happy, innocent young child, to have to transition, suddenly, into “Knuckles Malone Prize Fighter” simply to survive school, “the best years of your life”.
