A Letter to My Bullies.

To my bullies,

I’m writing to you today because I’m working on letting go of my past.

I don’t want you to feel bad, but I do want you to know that I still remember it all, and that it still keeps me awake at night.

 

Let’s start with those of you who signed that petition in primary school.

That came out of nowhere, and even though we were only 10-11 at the time, it is in no way justified.

Even though you said it was ‘just a joke’, I still felt horrible about myself.

Some of you had never spoken to me, but ‘knew me’ enough to want to hurt my feelings.

Some of you knew me pretty well, knew that my feelings would be hurt, and signed it anyway.

But all of you knew my greatest weakness.

You all knew that I cared about you too much.

You knew that I would never rat you out to our teacher.

You knew that you would get away with it.

Part of me wishes that I’d spoken up back then, as I would’ve avoided the years of torment that would follow, but I’ve now realised that you only signed it for the thrill, not because you really believed it’s content.

I want you to know that for all it’s worth, I forgive you.

 

Next, I’m talking to the girls who spent lunchtimes whispering about how ‘nerdy’ and ‘ugly’ I was.

I want you to know how thankful I am for you. In fact, I really owe you one.

In the beginning, you made me paranoid.

You never said anything to my face and you knew that I sort of knew but I’d never have enough proof to tell on you. And you played on that.

I was already struggling with the way my body was changing and knew that my acne was out of control, so your comments (that I only sort of heard) made me overthink everything so badly that I cried myself to sleep more times than I can count.

And what hurt me the most, is that one of you knew about my history of bullying. You knew how this would affect me, and you used to pretend to care. What happened?

But the thing is, once I eventually got that acne under control and began to feel slightly better about myself, I realised something.

You were afraid.

You knew that even though I may have looked like a pepperoni pizza, I wasn’t an idiot.

You knew that if I actually heard what you were saying firsthand, I’d have power over you, and I’m truly flattered that you were afraid of what I could do with that.

You called me nerdy with the intention of hurting me, but instead, all your comments did was validate me.

Thank you for showing me my worth.

And above all, thank you for proving that everything comes full circle.

Because 5 years later when you whispered to each other about how ‘pretty’ I was in the N block foyer?

Yeah, I heard that.

And it was seriously the funniest moment of my life.

 

Lastly, I’m talking to the people that caused me the most pain that I have ever felt.

You know who you are.

You knew that I was grieving.

You knew that I was struggling.

And you saw that as the perfect opportunity to target me.

The worst part?

I didn’t know until six months after it all happened.

You spread insane lies- lies which stuck with me for a long time.

When I broke down after I lost my Nanna, you looked at me, and you laughed.

You knew that I had nowhere else to go, and you played on that.

But what I hate the most, is the side of me that you brought out.

Up until the end of year 11, I was so paranoid that every person I spoke to was secretly making fun of me that I adopted a persona that I’m not proud of.

I was irritable. I was snappy. And everyone in my maths class really wore it (p.s. if any of the members of that class happen to be reading this, I hope you’ll accept my apology).

 

All in all, I want all of you to know that even though you never intended to, you changed my life for the better.

You taught me how to deal with pain.

You taught me how to fight back without hurting people.

And lastly, you taught me who I really am. And to like it.

Even though I will always despise what you did, please know that I forgive you for it.

Best of luck in life,

Claire

 

P.s. Thank U, Next.