The Blossoming of The Bullied

 

I remember telling a friend before: "I'm the most insecure person you will ever see in your life."

Which is true.

Red Alert. Kamatis. Rudolph. Halimaw. I've heard it all. High School was a traumatic experience, as I was the unfortunate victim of genes which seem very very fertile ground to acne. That, coupled with pubescent hormones which seem to pump out oil from my face rivaling the OPEC, plus a generally slim physique led to a daily string of insults which I had to endure day by dragging day.

I didn't try to compensate for it with a likeable personality either. I mean, if you're receiving shit like that it's hard to be a saint. It's just now I realize that I've learned to respond by putting up a wall of meanness and faux-superiority. Before they can get to me enough to make me vulnerable, I would've already pushed them away so far that a 2-meter distance between classroom desks would seem like the distance between Makati and Japan.

But the wall I built so high and thick was a sharp contrast to how I really was: emotionally sprawled on the floor, with fragments of self esteem scattered to to a million, unrecognizable pieces. True friends and family kept me sane, and I was showered with love and comforting words - but everytime I enter the school gates I would brace myself for another day of battering. I would curve my spine, bow my head so as not to stand out, and reduce my eyes to slits.

If I could go back in time and see myself entering the school like a villain entering a perceived warzone, I would've been reduced to tears...

Yet I will approach, stop him in his tracks, and look at him. Eye to Eye. I'll peel off his mean mask gently, bring him up to his full, 5'8" posture, and say with a smiling face:

"Things will get better. Because things already are better. For Me. For Us."

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As I look in the mirror now where the reflection still leaves a lot to be desired, I am still able to honestly say without delusions:

"Shet. Ang Ganda Ko."

When What You Require Is Not What You Need

I was headsplittingly angry, so much so that hours after the incident, as I'm writing this, a dull throb can still be felt and I can't help running scenarios of revenge over and over and over...

Yeah... Nice segue into the second post of my unattended blog haha :) But I still can't get over it - for the simple fact that I know I'm right.

Alala ko sabi samin ng marketing teacher namin, which became clearly etched in my memory, that products should be customer-centric, not product-centric.

Say you're making a new concept for a ballpen. You can stuff it chock full of unheard features - 10 colors, ultra-grip rubber handle, ink from the most exotic specie of octopus, etc - yet it won't sell. Why? Because people don't buy ballpens for all those. They just need something to write with. Plain, simple, period.

Now I say that because this office thing is quite technical. To put it figuratively, another team needed a ballpen. I gave a pencil, because getting a ballpen will take my people hours to produce, which they would have rendered overtime for. They declined, because SOP states that a ballpen is what they require. I ask what for? They said they needed to write. Will it make any difference if they use the pencil instead? No. Same time put to writing, same everything. But what they require IS. A. BALLPEN.

POTA.

I was talking to a manager for crying out loud. A manager! Who is 35+ years old! They should have hired a High School grad instead. I'm sure mas makakaintindi pa yun dahil napakasimple ng buhay. This manager should have been an MMDA traffic enforcer. She'll stick to the rules with no considerations, go to death with it, than let pass something that would fall outside the f@$* SOP.