I Hate it When People Hate Me

Remember when I wrote about my run-in with a Marine Corps fiance? Well, after I wrote things got a lot uglier. Ugly to the point that she said some very hurtful things to me. Ugly to the point that I had to tell her that if she wrote to me again I would not read it because she was being nothing but hateful to me. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly.

And, even though it's been a couple of weeks since that whole mess, I still think about it sometimes.

Not because I cared about what she said. Not because I thought she was right. But, because I really HATE when people HATE me. And, let me tell you, she sure does hate me.

I'm actually a very sensitive person when it comes down to it. It's hard for me to hear anyone saying anything negative about me. I don't take it well. Outwardly, you would never know that you got to me, though.

For example, today one of my students told me that when he says anything negative about me (to me) I never have a reaction. He was saying it in an admiring way.

But, if you want to know the truth, here it is:

I have a unique relationship with my students where they understand that most of the time they can joke around with me. Most of the time, I'm the one who actually begins the joking around business. Most of the time, if my class gets rowdy, I really know it's my fault. Because I got bored with standing there watching them work quietly.. so I decided to make a weird comment, or poke fun at someone to bring things back to life. So, most of the time it's OK for them to joke around with me.

MOST of the time when my students tease me about my hair, the homework assignment I gave them, the facial expressions I make, etc.. it rolls right off my back. I know not to take them seriously. I also know that if there's one thing that teenagers do well it's COMPLAIN.

However, there are times when my students say things that really hit me straight in the gut. Just yesterday, I got deeply offended when one of the 8th grade boys told me that the 3rd grade teacher has better candy than me.

See, I told you I'm just an old softy at heart.

And, of course, there was the 8th grader who on the bus back from a recent field trip decided to tell me (completely out of the blue), "I'm sorry to tell you Mrs. (Sorry), but you're not my favorite teacher. Mrs. A is (see: 3rd grade teacher who apparently also gives better candy than me) because she didn't give us homework." --
Hmm..

I said.. "Thanks, Chayanne, for sharing that information with me. I'm touched."

But, I was actually very mad. Not because I felt the need to defend myself (see: Of COURSE she gave you no homework. She was your 3rd grade teacher. You're not in 3rd grade anymore, buddy. It's about time you grow up!) I was mad because it BUGS me to know that there are people in the world walking around right now with a less than favorable opinion about me.

I guess if I really think hard about it though, I don't want to be the favorite teacher of an 8th grader who is too immature to realize that having an 8th grade teacher who gives homework is actually a good thing.

And,

when it comes down to it, I really do NOT want someone who is hateful and rude enough to attack my status as a military wife (and worse) to like me.

Problem solved.