The Daily Rick

When I was in 7th grade, I knew this girl named Cathy. I hated her and I basically let her know in my own inimitable way every day of her life. Even back then I was a top-seeded amateur smart-ass. I think back on it now and I feel pretty wretched about it. She was an unimposing, precocious, red-headed 13 year old; by all accounts a sort of busy-body but completely harmless. Still, for some reason I made her a target. It came to blows one day. We got in a huge verbal fight that turned physical. I don't remember much about it. I do remember pulling her hair and her reaction to it. She started crying and yelled, "Do you know why I'm moving to another school? Because of you!" That really hit hard. I didn't really know what I felt when I heard it that day, but I know it hurt.

Over the years, my impulse to denigrate others in order to boost my own self-esteem has waned but it still rears its ugly head now and again and I feel bad about it. Being mean for self-gratification just isn't what it used to be.

I feel even worse when others do it to people I love. It's a foul way to live and I can imagine people like this 20 years from now, their personalities whittled to nothing, ground down by their own perceived rapier wit. The momentary smirk earned from belittling those around you doesn't really compare to the black spot it leaves one's soul.

I know for a fact that my earlier transgressions have affected me throughout my adult life. And I'm still trying to correct for it. I'm doing the best I can for me and for the people I love.