It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and I was practicing my backhand on the tennis court. Then, all of a sudden this kid, about my age, came up behind me and started giving me a hard time. Not once, but continuously, relentlessly.
I’m not the toughest guy in the world so I wasn't able to shake him off. I was shocked if anything. Why was this kid, a kid I'd never seen before, picking on me?
It was so bad. I even reached out to an adult for help but he just blew me off.
So I went back to the court, hoping he'd be gone.
But it never stopped, or at least it seemed like it never stopped. He was being a royal pain in the neck and he picked on me like I was his worst enemy.
This went on and on. I can't remember whether he got tired of it or I just walked home. I talked to my Mom and explained what happened. It turns out she knew the family. She knew everybody.
She told me his parents were getting divorced.
In other words, this young guy, a guy my age, was about to have his entire life change and there was nothing he could do about it.
Everything he knew was about to change. His life would never be the same.
If I knew what I know now and I was more mature than I was then, I would have tried to console him.
Since then, I couldn't help wondering how many other people were mean to me; when their anger really had nothing to do with me. Their anger was just an expression of what they were going through. Something to consider the next time someone unloads on you...
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