Anyplace Other Than Here (A Personal Story)

I remember well begging my parents to move when the bullying was so bad for me. I would say I could go anywhere but here, anywhere where people wouldn’t know me and know what happened to me. I remember the feeling of real pain as someone physically attacked me. As I read Stacy’s story below, all of this came flooding back as she tells her own painful tale of bullying that happened to her. ~Alan Eisenberg

Hi my name is Stacy I’m now 25 years old. My bullying started when I was very young. I was in first grade and had switched schools. I went from a teacher who adored me (actually asked my grandparents who had custody of me if she could adopt me) to a teacher who didn’t like me simply because she didn’t like the idea of grandparents raising children. Mrs. C as we’ll call her was horrible to me. She encouraged my classmates to bully me. She herself bullied me. She told me that I smelled bad and made fun of my hair and clothes. She would take me in front of the class and publicly humiliate me. She pinched me and pulled my hair. I was left-handed and anytime she caught me writing with my left hand she’d rip the pencil out of my hand smack my hand call me “Satan’s Child” and put the pencil in my right hand and squeeze it and force me to write with it. The other children participated in her cruelty. They would repeat things she said. When it came time to play games as a team or at recess nobody wanted me to play with them (or near them). During games where we were to hold hands nobody would hold my hand. It was horrible. I had no friends nobody to talk to and I didn’t think my parent’s would believe me so I retreated into myself. I didn’t talk to anyone and when free time came I’d sit alone at my desk and draw pictures of my own made up super heroes that I wished would come and take me away from it.

As I got older school didn’t get any easier. Even though I begged and pleaded with my parents to allow me to go to a different school I was stuck with these same kids year after year until 5th grade that tortured me. In second grade a boy pushed me off of the jungle gym which knocked out two of my teeth. In third grade these group of girls harassed me to the point that I broke down crying and was carried into the counselor’s office (later me and one of the girls became good friends). Also in third grade I was physically assaulted by Mrs. L. A friend of mine had gotten a pink slip and i was going to go with her to the office. Casey told on me to Mrs. L. Mrs.L came out grabbed me by my bad wrist squeezed and twisted it and slammed me against the brick wall. By lunch time I had a hand print bruise around my wrist and a bruise across my shoulders all because I was going to go to the office. In fourth grade I was already near suicidal and looked for excuses to stay home cause I was so tired of putting up with the bullying. We stayed two weeks into the fifth grade before we relocated this time it was out-of-state.

In a way the thought of relocating was exciting and looked like a fresh new start. But in a way I was scared that it would be just like my last school. I was determined to make friends. Well we ended up moving to Arkansas from Ohio. We moved to a little town and I knew from day one that I just didn’t belong. I got a really nice teacher Mrs.S. She asked me to introduce myself in front of the class. At recess I had a few kids come up to me and introduce themselves. But the group of girls I originally met were teasing another few girls and when I refused to join in I was out cast yet again. I once again found myself in a situation where I was bullied all because I wouldn’t bully other kids. But I never knew how horrible bullying could be until I crossed paths with Kevin.

I met Kevin in sixth grade. He put a small baggy in the teacher’s bookcase that contained marijuana and a porn magazine on her desk. Our teacher came in saw the magazine and went and got the principal. He came in and threatened if no one spoke up that we’d all get detention and swats (In Arkansas they still give swats). He had us write down on a piece of paper if we would tell him what happened I wrote that I would. The next class I sat beside Kevin our principal called over the load speaker: Mrs. R I need to speak with Stacy (don’t want to put my last name). Kevin looked over at me and said “I’m going to f***ing kill you.” Kevin didn’t get in much trouble but he made sure that he made the next 5 years of my life hell. He tortured me. If he caught me between classes he’d punch me or throw me into the lockers he called me “rat” “slut” “skank” “nerd” “freak” told me that he was going to rape me and kill me. Once on my way to my 7th period class I was going down the stairs and I heard him say “Hey guys watch this” to some of his buddies then he swung his bag at my feet and I tumbled down the stairs. On my way down I tried to stop myself by grabbing the railing. BIG MISTAKE. I tore all the muscles in my shoulder and dislocated it and had to have surgery. I told but nothing happened. You see Kevin was our Superintendent Mr. T’s nephew so Kevin didn’t get in trouble. That is until he crossed the line.

One day during lunch I had Ensemble practice. I went to my locker to get my folder (which was in the basement of the school) Kevin and his buddies had spit all over my locker. I backed up and said “EWWW” then he came behind me and grabbed me. He put a knife to my throat and said “Rat’s die horrible deaths. You know Stacy I could kill you right now. But I think I’m going to wait. I want to kill you and your Preppy Jock Brother at the same time. I have a gun I can’t wait to see you dead….” a fellow ensemble member came down the stairs to see what was taking me so long. When they heard her coming they slammed me against the lockers and took off. I immediately went to the principal’s office. I told Mr. B what happened. He told me to “wait here” then he came back with the Dean and Mr. T. Mr. T told me that I was making something out of nothing that Kevin did no such thing. He told me that he checked and Kevin didn’t have a knife on him. I insisted that I saw the blade and felt it against my neck. He told me that I was imagining things and told me that I was not allowed to tell my parents. He told me that if I told my parents that I would get in trouble for insubordination.

I cried all the way home. I was scared. I believed Kevin when he said that he would kill me and my older brother. The next morning I cried and pleaded for me and my brother to stay home. My parents refused and demanded to know what was going on. It took a while but reluctantly I told them what had happened and the warning from Mr. T. My father was furious. He had my brother stay home with mom and took me up to the school. You see Kevin had turned 18 that year I however was only 16 meaning by law Kevin was an adult I was still a minor. My father demanded something be done about Kevin. He said “You are going to expel him or my daughter and I will be on the evening news tonight and Kevin will be arrested and charged for terroristic threatening and assault on a minor.” Kevin’s uncle gave him the option of quitting as opposed to being expelled. Kevin quit. I was never so relieved. However I became the object of his friend’s hatred for getting Kevin in trouble. The rest of my Junior year went badly.

The summer after my Junior year we relocated back to Ohio. I begged my dad “Any town in the state of Ohio except W ANY school except WR PLEASE!” Where did we move to? W. Where did I end up finishing school? WR. I was NOT happy. Dad said “It’s a good school I want you to graduate from there.” And sure enough same kids same treatment as before. I hated my entire senior class. I didn’t have 1 friend. Then everyone wonders why I have no intention of attending either school reunion Ohio or Arkansas. No thank you I’ve had enough for one lifetime. I have nothing to say to any of those people. It took me years to get to where I could get over everything and I have no intention of stirring up old emotions. Thank you.


Anger Management Issues & Past Bullying

Eby (6/11/12, Cool Comebacks post) came to counseling with long term effects from bullying that caused anxiety in social situations. Annabel had a different story:  she was a walking powder keg ready to explode.  The week before her first counseling session she became so angry at her boyfriend that she had to go to the ER with severe chest pains and high blood pressure.

Annabel was originally mystified about the cause of her intense reactions, but it became clear when she was asked, “Have  you always been quick tempered?”  Tears welled in her eyes as she recalled being a meek child who kept quiet during relentless teasing about her old fashioned name and high forehead.  The move to middle school gave her a break until eighth grade.  Someone started to taunt her, saying her name in a sing-song voice and Annabelle fired back, demolishing her would-be attacker with a barrage of belittling comebacks.  Many schoolmates witnessed her poweress and no one bothered her again.  Underneath her bravado, Annabel felt defective and weak.  It took all her strength to muster the verbal vibrato to humiliate anyone who might want to hurt, talk about, or deceive her.  If others were nearby, all the better.  Her intention was to send a message to those present that she was not to be messed with.

Expose Wounds in Private

Annabelle and I went back to her early memories of being belittled for bogus reasons.  Angry tears welled up.  Like a protective momma bear, the 46 year old Annabel was helped to express what her younger self never could:

Do you know what it does for an eight year old to be teased this way?!  A person starts to feel like there is something terribly wrong with her…like she can never measure up.  You have no idea of the damage you’re doing!!!!

Wrapping words around inner wounds releases them.  Retorting with name calling is a verbal punch that leaves painful bullets inside to fester.  Exposing such anguish should only be done with trusted others.  Once hurt is expelled, the mind is cleared to consider a cool comeback.

The Power of Positive Speaking

Now the fun began.  I asked Annabel to take the role of the bully so I could play her younger, empowered self.

Bully:  You’re forehead is so shiny it could light up a coal mine.

Anna:  So you’re blinded by my light. I must have super powers.

*     *     *

Bully:  “Annabel”—what a silly old name.

Anna:  I guess you can’t name your children after me.

Both comebacks brought a smile to Annabelle‘s face.  In role-play, she had no words to counter the disarming responses.  We switched positions and she glibly replied with her own version of, You’re blinded by my light….  Her demeanor reflected inner strength.  But something telling happened with the knock on her name:

Bully:  “Annabel”—what a silly old name.

Anna:  But it was my grandmother’s name and you don’t even know her…


Annabel’s defensive reaction again brought tears to her eyes.  She was quickly reminded of possible cool comebacks:

  • You say my name like it’s a bad thing.
  • Annabel is my nick name—my real name is Rumpelstiltskin.
  • OK, now you can’t name your kids after me. 

In the redo of the role-play, You say my name like it’s a bad thing easily rolled off Annabel’s tongue.  She looked bright-eyed and strong.  Annabel had given a powerful demonstration of how defensive reactions weaken people and disarming responses, indeed, arm and protect us from cruel comments.   The following explains the subtext that makes cool comebacks so arresting.

EXPLAINATION—Cool comeback (AAAH) responses:

  • Act as if it’s all good—admit, agree, compliment, show gratitude
  • Ask questions—curious questions, hidden questions (I wonder why…)
  • Actively listen—rephrase (Are you saying…), name feelings or      behavior (blaming, accusations, threats, etc.), sympathize, validate (It      makes sense that you…)
  • Hide suggestions—truism (You can…), false choice (Do you      want to … or …), Underlying assumptions (When will you be able to…),      reverse psychology (It’s good for you to keep… because….), power      words (try, dare, but), random responses.
  1. So you’re blinded by my light… I guess I have super powers: a cool comeback that acts as if having a shiny forehead is a good thing and uses a compliment.
  2.  I guess you can’t name your children after me:  a cool comeback that acts as people would want to call their child “Annabel” and then uses reverse psychology to make her name even more attractive.
  3. You say my name like it’s a bad thing: a standard one-liner that implies that her name is a good thing.
  4. Annabel is my nick name—my real name is Rumpelstiltskin: acts as if Annabel is a desirable to cover up a much worse (storybook) name, “Rumpelstiltskin.”   If this response leads to being taunted with the name Rumpelstiltskin, a ready comeback would be….
  5.  Are you practicing saying Rumpelstiltskin to avoid giving me your first born?

This confusing question hides the suggestion that continuing to say Rumpelstiltskin means the bully is fearful of giving up his or her child.

These cool comebacks do not focus on understanding the bully with questions and active listening.  Reasons for random and meaningless remarks may not be worthy of decoding.  It is not likely that this first lesson in the verbal arts will eliminate all of Annabel’s anger problems, but she has been able to experience robust responses that block attempts to rob her of her dignity. A felt sense of being overpowered is the root of all anger.

~ Kate Cohen-Posey, MS LMHC LMFT

Remember to send verbatim Cruel Comments to me at
and I will post them here with suggested Cool Comebacks!


For more information, please check out my books listed on this site: HOW TO HANDLE BULLIES TEASERS AND OTHER MEANIES; MAKING HOSTILE WORDS HARMLESS, and EMPOWERING DIALOGUES WITHIN (for the bullies in your brain).

The Victim of the Bullied Strikes Back (A Personal Story)

For the regular readers of this site, this is a first and has been building up for the last several months. Some years ago, I wrote a story called “Me As The Bully”. When I wrote that, I would have no idea that the child I referred to 30 years prior to would grow up and read his story here and then that would facilitate an opportunity for us to reconnect, close the gap of years and close the door on the incident referred to in my story. But it’s more than that. This was the first time I could ask and hopefully have a second opinion about my story and how that time affected a life other than my own. I am lucky and happy to now have the story, which is quite different than I could ever have imagined, be written by the other person in my old story. He has added his story below and his feelings and opinions about how these years have affected his life. I am forever grateful to have others that “get me” as well and are willing to share their thoughts and feelings as well. Thank you, David. ~Alan Eisenberg

Juneteenth is coming up and my family and I plan on spending it in South Carolina. A couple of years ago, my extended family and I, with myself in charge, attended a Juneteenth celebration in Newport News, Virginia. As a Hebrew (and Passover fanatic), I identify strongly with African-Americans and their identification through their path of freedom from bondage.

I have been the recipient of a lot of “understanding” from people of all backgrounds and economic levels (pale and not , foreign and not). I have been very lucky to have met so many people who just seem to get me. I have parlayed this in many ways and have followed paths that others have not.

Well this Juneteenth I will be celebrating another special milestone in my life, the launch of my new business. This was a 2 year path that ended with a crescendo in my discovery of a forgotten, yet presently applicable, part of my past. An instinct to fight, to hold others off, and to defend.

I kind of matured slowly.

I had blanked out the incident that I’m a part of that Alan tells the story of in his post called “Bully Incident#24: Me as the Bully (1979)” and I understand why a bit more now after reconnecting with Alan. It was the very beginning of the days I dealt with bullying in 1979, just as Alan was getting ready to move away. I always remembered Alan (but not the specifics of our interaction or the bullying incident at our Hebrew school) and felt like he was dangerous and maybe someone I didn’t want to know too well. It seemed to me that he was in his state of weakness at the time due to the bullying he endured.

It was only 30 years later at the culmination of my high school reunion where I found out Alan was publishing stories on the web about bullying in Lexington, MA. I then looked it up and there I was in his one story of a time in Hebrew school where I was the victim. Interestingly, when I found and read the story the first time, felt exhilarated. No embarrassment but not a great recollection of the incident. While I didn’t remember the tacks in the chair action exactly at that time, I have a vague thought that in the state I was at that time in my life that it did affect me and that I might be more aware of it than I realize even today. my What I do recall of that time, though, is that the realization that there was no safe social place for me, including religious school.

Within less than a year of this time when you and the other kids put the tacks on my chair, my life kinda sucked. I did deal with bullying as well by the kids in Lexington, MA. But also, what happened was every so often i would meet an outsider who would protect me socially. Over the next 6 years I became much stronger. Yet that time in my life taught me some strange survival skills that I incorporated into my professional life as fixer of sorts. In the end, I would help companies that have operational or financial distress.

So I hardly ever felt like a victim. More a participant in a moral battle. My question that I asked Alan in his story (“Why Did You Do This?”) was surely designed to make him and the other kids that did it stronger so that he wouldn’t look at me as a victim.

My finding out about Alan and this story he wrote, along with his whole website also coincided with my helping to heal my one of my best friends from his long-term suffering from bullying, and also a series of interactions within my work life in general, that brought me to think hard about Alan’s mission and good work. I also thought about how Alan put himself out there on this site and his personal exposure along with all the risks that go along with doing that. That has helped me come to terms with my own decision of leaving big law and the dysfunctional situations that I am quite good at surviving now due to my rationalized flight and fight instinct that I developed through my experiences with bullies in my past.

So now I have chosen my own path (which by the way I was very reluctant to choose) and now can focus all my energy on my own path. Bottom line is that throughout my life and especially during 6-8 grade in Lexington, MA, when Alan was there, I realized that I had some “mark” that those with wisdom saw in me. Adults who are smart and anyone who understands how to view things from the outside saw that mark and “got me”. They always got me and have always helped me, especially an African-American judge and Vietnam Vet that gave me a chance, where others would have not. They “got” me! It has made me live a life that seems so easy and lucky. Now this brings us to the present. This Juneetenth I continue on my Journey of Freedom with a view from the outside to help those on the outside get inside (but never myself getting too close).


(Read the original “Me As The Bully” Story Here)

The Boy Who Would Run

Sometimes we just need to be inspired to realize that bullies are in the minority and there are many of us that do good. This story was on the Today show and I had to share it here. I think it’s important to share that we are not alone and that the bullies don’t always win, particularly when we are young. Having worked with children with Cerebral Palsy, I know that all they want to do is do what everyone else does. This boy did not let that get in his way.

And just watch what the other children do to help him learn that. I think you will see why this is an important addition to the bullying stories site.

In the Workplace (A Personal Story)

Bullying in the workplace is getting some attention, but certainly less than childhood bullying. I think that might be because adults are embarrassed to admit they are still bullied and can succumb to that bullying. I think it brave when someone sends me their bullying in the workplace story, because I think many of us also experience this issue and don’t know what to do, other than quiet and be out of work or deal with the abuse on a daily basis. Gayla shares her story below and is looking for some advice, so please comment if you have some feedback for her. ~Alan Eisenberg

In the Workplace

In my quest to find help with a current situation of Workplace Bullying, I came across your webpage. It seems that childhood bullies must grow up to be Workplace Bullying Supervisors, like mine.

In my part-time job as a receptionist at a local Private School of Music and Arts, sounds like a fun, great place to work, right? Well, that is what I thought 9 months ago when I took this job. In the first several months at the job this person had no issues with me, my work performance and nothing negative. All of my work seemed to be a great help to the school, and I absolutely loved going to work everyday. Being told my cheerful attitude such a positive addition to their registration office. It seemed I asked all the right questions about how to do the job in the most efficient organized manner, many times I was told “in comparison to past employees in this position, you are great.” All of the parents seem to like me at the front desk, all of the teachers seem to like conversing with me, all of the students liked a helpful, smiling face as they come in to attend their music lessons or art class.

At some point this person turned into my worst nightmare on the job. This person is my supervisor and all of a sudden I am being talked down to, as if I were a naughty child. If front of others my every action is questioned, scolder and reprimanded beyond petty. With my co-worker and peers being within hearing distance, I ve been told “why are you taking the files out of the draw to organize them, simply leave them in the folder and alphabetized them in the folder.” Or “look at me when I am talking to you, so I know that you are hearing me.” My every sentence has been corrected, I ve been told “I do not like the way your tone of voice changes when you talk to the children.” The other person in the office has acknowledged this person being rude and unprofessional to me ( as well as others in this school ), even to her at times.

Now the worst slap in the face, I had scheduled a few days off work, as my 80 yr old mom was coming for I visit and I am picking her up from the airport after work. So that afternoon, I arrive at work and I my supervisor informs me we have a meeting with the HR representative. I should have seen it coming, she had asked me the day before “why are you giving out wrong information regarding classes” and it was something she had heard incorrectly, I told a parent summer classes are 9 weeks, and she heard is as me telling them the Private Lessons are 9 weeks. So, we go into the meeting and I am shocked, she is placing me on a written warning for false and unfounded statements, on the day my mom is coming in for a visit. I challenged her on several of the allegations and tell her and the HR representative I will be writing a rebuttal. She is shaking as we then return to the Registration Office, and looks at me with her belittling look “if you need to take a break now, feel free to do so.” I simply turn and look her straight in the eyes, and say “no, you go ahead.” Needless to say, my time spent with my mom and family could have been much better without this cloud hanging over me.

My rebuttal has been written and presented to HR, whom in turn sent her a copy. Now I am expecting to be terminated from this job next week, after their follow-up. And since I also have suggested to HR this is a “hostile work environment”, they followed up with an investigation of my claim and deemed it is NOT harassment and my claim is invalid.

In the meantime, I took 2 weeks off the job for personal time, due to experiencing sever anxiety attacks, depression, lack of energy, outburst of tears, and loss of self-confidence. At one point I thought I was having a heart attack, these feelings are so debilitating. Now that I ve returned to work it is, of course, even worse since she feels she has HR and Managements approval to treat people in this manner.

How do we stop the epidemic from spreading? How do we stop Childhood bullies from becoming Managers at a School?

Thank you for reading my story, I hope to hear back from you.


The 8th Grade Speech (A Personal Story)

Imagine going through a year of terrible bullying, where both student and teachers bullied you when you were in 7th grade. Now imagine transferring to a new school in 8th grade, simply to get away and feel safe again. Now imagine being brave enough that when asked to give a speech about something that affected you to your new classmates, that you give that speech on the bullying that happened to you in the previous year. That’s exactly what Hannah did. Not only did she do that, but she sent it to me and asked me to share it with the world.  I am happy to do that for her. Thank you, Hannah, for this gift of your story and your bravery in the face of bullying. ~Alan Eisenberg

The 8th Grade Speech

Last year I went to Reynolds middle school. When I was there, I was scared to walk through the doors in the morning. People were threatening me, for no reason, and I was often being bullied.

While all these things were going on in my life, I was pushed to the point of believing no one cared. I was even too embarrassed to tell my own family. My teacher’s and those who I thought were my friends didn’t care that my life was horrible. The same people who I called my friends didn’t help the situation at all because they seemed to be supporting the people who bullied me; I believe they did this for the benefit of looking cool. The teachers didn’t do a thing when they saw the bullying happen and when they heard about what was happening.

After a certain point, I gave up.

I started what people were saying. I thought of myself as fat, stupid, ugly and so much more, because those were the things I heard. I then came to Corbett hating myself. I came here thinking nothing was going to change, but I was wrong.I came to realize that people really do care, even the teachers. Another plus is that I don’t hate myself anymore. I think that when people bully others and call others names it is because they want to make themselves look and feel better. I personally don’t think that bullies understand the effect they leave on their victims. I have realized that words can hurt, and the hurtful names people call you are never true. Coming to Corbett has made me a totally new person, in a good way!

I know it may sound weird and all, but I can now say that I found something positive from being bullied. I feel that I am a stronger person. I know that I can have someone call me a name, because I know what the truth is and they don’t. I am now able to catch what people throw at me. I guess I’m trying to get it in your mind that when people bully you and call you names it’s not true. If you have people around that care about you, know that they will always be there for you, it will make the hard times in life a lot easier.

So stay strong and hold on.


Their Taunts and Insults (A Personal Story)

Melanie started her letter to me talking of the courage to tell her story. To think it doesn’t take an enormous amount of courage to share specific insults and hurtful words said to you is to think that it is easy to relive the worst moments of your life. When I get these stories I usually have to read them many times so that I can see them with calm, which is usually after the third read or so. Melanie vividly recalls the harsh words said to her and does not see a solution. What can you offer to help her? ~Alan Eisenberg

Their Taunts and Insults

You should know that I am a 17-year-old girl who comes from Germany. And was bullied from kindergarten up to high school. But for me it was the worst time from primary to secondary school.

In 2002, my parents and I moved into a small village. A new home also means new school. For the first few weeks, it was quiet around me. I had found some friends. And then it hit me straight in the face. I did not get along with the new school curriculum and was therefore called Dumb. It got worse as the summer came. Instead of making ordinary sports, we went swimming. This meant that all must change together. However I was for a 7-8 year old girl, already quite well-developed physically. They began to point with a finger at me and laugh. They insult me. Monster. Freak. Witch. My friends turned their backs on me. They said that I am no longer usable. One day a boy came to see me and put a knife to my throat. He threatened to kill me. This boy was in a class below me. No one helped me. I was hated. I cried a lot. At school (and at home). This was also the reason why I was called crybaby.

I came into main school. Again, it was quiet for the first few weeks. I had made friends.

But then a friend wrote a letter to me. The letter was written that I was a bitch and I should disappear out of her life. Shortly after the letter, began a group of boys to bully me. Shove. Pick with their fingers. Hair pulling. So they began. But at some point they wanted more.

They threatened to rape me. So I told my parents. And my mother went straight to the school. But the school has done nothing. However the guys forgot the rape threats.

In return, they insulted me. Bad. Bitch. Miscarriage. Whore. Freak. Monster. Witch.

Ugly. Fat. Amazon. When a bird would poop on my head, I would be pretty. They shouted “yuck” when I walked past. And when I touched them they fell back. For this they would say that they would have to be disinfected. My so-called friends always watched. Laughed. They ignored me.

So I started to pull me back into myself. I lost confidence in the people. So I created my own world where I felt safe. They quickly realized. They spread, that I had depression. They spoke also of illnesses. And that was the point where I gave up everything.

I had no friends. The teacher looked away. And the bullying was getting worse.

I felt dead. Unintentionally. Hated. Unloved. I saw myself as a monster. I tried to kill me. The first time had not worked. Although it had left its traces. I tried it a few times. I gave up. It did not work. So I started something else. I started listening to them. If they had problems, they always came to me. And after I had helped them, they gave me a small smile. But that was about it. They bullied me further. Until the day where I was beaten.

I had not defended myself. I said to myself “It’s okay. It will soon be over.”

I went to high school. It was most of the time quiet. But when I once wore an unusual T-shirt, they started the same again. Phantom or ghost of the school they called me.

But a teacher stood in front of me. I will never forget. If we had to work in groups, he had allowed me to work alone. I had him however only once a week. As long as he was not there, they would continue.

Now I have finished school. But I have no friends. But then I think to myself, it’s better without. I like my peace.