(Even When They’re Running the Damn Show)
You know the type. The overcompensating swagger. The weaponized insecurity. The toddler-with-a-Twitter-account energy. Maybe it’s a schoolyard, maybe it’s your workplace, maybe it’s every time you turn on the news and scream into a pillow shaped like the Constitution.
And maybe—just maybe—the bully isn’t just in the room. He’s running the room, hosting the gala, and force-feeding the hors d’oeuvres of fascism.
Let’s not be cute. This isn’t a metaphor. It’s President Donald J. Trump, who thinks diplomacy means blackmail, strength means cruelty, and “peace” means Ukraine just shuts up and bleeds.
This isn’t just about him. It’s about what happens when bullying becomes official policy. When the most powerful person in the world is using every dirty trick in the narcissist’s playbook—and calling it leadership.
So here’s the question:
What the hell do you do when the bully is the system?
🚨 Step 1: Recognize the Goddamn Playbook
Bullies are depressingly predictable. And Trump? He’s running the hits like it’s a cover band for psychological warfare.
- Intimidation & Coercion: Threatens NATO like it’s a group chat he’s bored of.
- Normalize the Abuse: “That’s just how he is” = “Let’s pretend this fire is ambiance.”
- Rebrand Surrender as Wisdom: “It’s smart to roll over and call it strategy.”
- Retaliate When Resisted: Suing staffers, attacking whistleblowers, revenge via policy.
Here’s what the data says: Chronic bullying isn’t just annoying—it’s biological sabotage. We’re talking anxiety, depression, insomnia, illness. It literally makes you sick.
And no—ignoring it won’t make it go away. That’s not Zen. That’s complicity in yoga pants.
❌ Step 2: What Definitely Doesn’t Work
Let’s debunk some bedtime stories people tell themselves when the bully takes over:
- Appeasement: “If I just play nice, maybe the alligator will eat me last.” Spoiler: It won’t.
- Silence: Bullies interpret your quiet as a standing ovation.
- Aggression-for-Aggression: Sure, it feels satisfying for 0.3 seconds before the cycle escalates and you’re both screaming on cable news.
Bullies win when you play by their script. So don’t. Burn the damn script. Write a new one.
🛠Step 3: What Actually Works — Be B.R.A.V.E.
No, really. Be BRAVE. It’s a research-backed acronym, not a Marvel reboot.
B — Boundaries
Stay calm. Be specific. Draw the line and duct tape it to the floor. Boundaries aren’t mean—they’re survival.
R — Resilience
Know your triggers. Train your nervous system. Build emotional intelligence like it’s your personal body armor. The bully can’t puppeteer what doesn’t react.
A — Allies
Call in your crew. Your coven. Your coalition of “Oh hell no.” Studies show bullies back down fast when someone steps in. Strength is contagious.
V — Voice
Name the behavior. Document the pattern. Say the thing, even if your voice shakes like a chihuahua on espresso. Silence helps the bully. Your voice builds receipts.
E — Empowerment
Weaponize satire. Dance in the fire. Laugh at them—never down, always up. Bullies combust under ridicule. (See: Every dictator’s meltdown over a cartoon.)
BRAVE isn’t about playing hero. It’s about refusing to audition for victim.
⚖ Step 4: Acceptance ≠Capitulation
Yes, yes—acceptance is a powerful thing. We’re all for radical acceptance over here.
But if your “acceptance” means handing the bully the rulebook and clapping politely while they set it on fire? That’s not Zen. That’s Stockholm.
You can face reality without letting it colonize your spine.
🔚 Closing: When the Bully Runs the Whole Damn Show
From homerooms to war rooms, the bully’s message is always the same:
“Stop resisting. Just accept it.”
But peace built on submission is not peace. It’s performance art for the insecure.
You don’t need to be louder.
You don’t need to be meaner.
You just need to be BRAVE:
- Boundaries.
- Resilience.
- Allies.
- Voice.
- Empowerment.
Because bullies don’t stop when they win.
They stop when enough people stop pretending this is normal.
