Growing up in Australia as an Italian girl was no walk in the park. Imagine being surrounded by Vegemite sandwiches while you’re unwrapping your Nonna’s lovingly packed mortadella and provolone roll. The stares, the sneers, and the whispers. Oh, that smell! It felt as if I had walked into a room wearing last season’s dress at Fashion Week. But instead of questioning my sartorial choices, people questioned my culture, my identity, my everything. It was relentless. I was different, and for that, I was shamed.
The food I ate, the clothes I wore, even the color of my skin—everything was fodder for playground ridicule. And I wasn’t just mocked by my peers; teachers, those supposed guardians of young hearts, joined in. It felt like a never-ending social catwalk, where the judges were all too eager to hand out low scores for authenticity. Shame, as it turns out, isn’t just a feeling—it’s an action, something people thrust upon you when they don’t understand or accept what makes you different.
Now, fast forward to adulthood, and I naively thought the shaming would stop. But no, the universe had other plans. Even today, as I embrace my opulent lifestyle, as I waltz into rooms with the confidence of a woman who knows her worth, I still encounter bullies. Yes, adult bullies. Imagine that. It’s almost laughable—except it’s not.
London Fashion Week
Take London Fashion Week, for instance. There I was, ready to bask in the creative energy, flaunting my fabulousness and larger-than-life personality. And what happened? Someone had the audacity to comment on my hands. My hands! They’re not small, but they are mine, and frankly, they’ve done a lot more important things than worry about fitting into someone’s narrow perception of beauty. These hands have held pens that signed business deals. They’ve gestured wildly as I explained groundbreaking ideas. And yet, some insecure individuals at the British Fashion Council decided to shame me for them.
I know deep down that if I were a man, they wouldn’t have batted an eye. My bold ideas, my trailblazing attitude, my unapologetic presence would have been embraced. But here I was, shamed again for daring to be different, for daring to succeed.
You’d think after a lifetime of dealing with this nonsense, I’d be a crumpled mess. But no, darling, I’m not.
In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s precisely this ongoing battle with shame that has sharpened my resilience.
My sense of self-worth is unshakeable because I’ve had to build it from the ground up, brick by brick, insult by insult.
Bullies Shame
You see, bullies and their shame tactics have a funny way of closing doors, and at first, it can feel devastating. But every door that closed on me only made me more determined to find another one. Or, if I felt particularly sassy, I’d break down the door myself, stilettos and all. Bullies have taught me more about success than any motivational speaker or business seminar ever could. They taught me how to stand tall, even when people are trying to pull you down.
Being misunderstood? It’s a gift, really. It’s like being handed a VIP ticket to the world of self-reliance. Most of my life, I’ve been a bit of a loner. Not because I wanted to be, but because sometimes, when you’re a visionary, when you see things differently, people just don’t get you. And that’s fine. They don’t have to. I’ve soared alone, led alone, and, yes, felt alone. But that solitude was a breeding ground for success. It allowed me to cultivate my own ideas without the noise of others telling me I couldn’t.
It’s funny, isn’t it? The very people who tried to shame me for standing out, for being different, are the ones who ultimately pushed me towards success.
Bullies think they’re breaking you, but they’re really building you. Every insult, every cruel comment, every attempt to make me feel small has only made me bigger, brighter, and more determined.
Shame? I don’t feel it anymore. Not in the way they want me to. When someone tries to make me feel less than, I don’t crumble. I grow. Shame is their tool, not mine. My tool is confidence. And that confidence, darling, is what has propelled me to heights I never thought possible.
It’s strange to think that I owe a part of my success to those who tried to hold me back. If it weren’t for the bullies, for the people who couldn’t handle my uniqueness, I might have stayed small, stayed safe. But that’s not who I am, and it’s certainly not who I was meant to be. I was meant to take up space, to be loud, to be bold. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.
Of course, the luxury, the opulence, the lifestyle I now enjoy—it’s all a sweet, sweet reward for years of hard work and resilience. But let’s not kid ourselves; it’s also a bit of a middle finger to those who said I wouldn’t make it. Every time I slip into a gorgeous designer gown, every time I sip champagne in a rooftop bar, every time I book a first-class ticket to some exotic locale, I’m reminded that I’ve made it. And I made it despite the shame, despite the bullying, despite the people who tried to tear me down.
Conquering Shame
But I won’t end on that note, because that would give the bullies too much credit. My success isn’t just in spite of them. It’s because of me. Because I chose not to let their words define me. Because I chose to turn their negativity into fuel. Because I chose to live an unapologetic, luxurious, and successful life.
So here’s the takeaway, darling: Don’t let anyone shame you for who you are. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re too much or too little of anything. And if they try? Smile, put on your favorite outfit, and succeed. Trust me, there’s no better revenge than living your best, most fabulous life.
And as for those bullies? Let them stew in their own mediocrity while you continue to shine. After all, you were born to stand out.
You must be logged in to post a comment.