Dear My Bully,

I will begin by telling you that I have had a myriad of bullies throughout the different phases of my life, however, they are very different from you. By different, I mean that I have forgiven them over time, as they are now mature adults who have either subtly expressed regret for their behavior or have learned to be more civil human beings who interact fine with me. Worst case scenario, there could be some of those people who fake smile, or glance rudely at me in public, but talk behind my back when I'm not around. As long as I barely hear, or should I say care about that, that's honestly at least better than the pain you have caused me in front my face until my last year of high school.

There's another good reason why I remember you out of them all. You didn't have the reputation of being "popular" in general other than maybe your group of friends, you were not the most popular jock dating the most popular cheerleader, you were not in line of the smartest people in school, let alone any other high school stereotypes; from what I heard. Believe me, though I was pretty intelligent, I didn't belong to any of the other typical stereotypes either. I will not say that you're just plain mean, or a jerk, let alone even a typical bully because that's not how all your other friends (which included a couple mutual ones) saw you. To them you were a gem of a person, an angel, with a positive personality and a sassy edge to you- that varied among people, meaning, you were a pure dick to me, and maybe others I don't know. When I found the actual reason for which you hated me all these years (which I will cover shortly), I realized you were just the most narcissistic human being.

Enough about you now, I will talk about how you made me feel. You were somewhat of a friend to me on the bus when I first met you in elementary school, but I should have known things would sour when you started to beat me up for no reason in fourth grade on the bus; in the name of typical roughhousing, which is sometimes normal among friends and siblings, with mutual consent. However, I never gave you the signal that I was okay with that. When I asked you to stop, because you were hurting me, you did like a minute later and sang, "I just beat up a fourth grader [he was a year younger than me] and she asked me to stop! uh-uh-uh ugh!" or whatever. Eventually, it really started to get to me in middle school, and your first attack during then was when you and another friend of yours (who thankfully realized he was over your bullshit eventually), would have dirty discussions about women problems while taking occasional glances at me and then casually asking me what period I had math. Disgusting. You know you were doing that just to piss me off. This eventually led to you and him practically punching my hand as I rested it on the tip of the back of your seat (which I'm glad to say I kept it there until I got off at my stop). Then, you started to gather more pawns in your game, or in other words, gang up on me with other people, when your physical abuse became emotional; commenting about my skin (how badly I needed Proactiv for my acne, and how ugly and worthless I was to try to be included); my weight (especially about how huge my butt was, and how it wasn't normal); my looks (that sometimes I looked like I was 23 at a mere age of 12, and how sad it was; or that I looked like a guy dressed up as a girl in my picture day pictures). I believed every rotten thing you ever said about me to my face in front of everyone on the bus, so now it's your turn to believe me. I was not the person I am now those days, and I had a lot of flaws that kids tend to be bullied for, and though I've transformed, I still am far from perfect. You probably slept easily like a baby all those nights, but my nights were sleepless, honestly spent thinking of witty (yet unsuccessful, because you always found a way to use them against me) comebacks for the hundred things you usually said to me and what you'd say to me the next day on the ten minute trip home, and crying, wondering why I deserved such ill treatment. Luckily I trusted in my middle school disciplinarian, who was good at her job. I told her the vile things that came out of your mouth, but it took going to her more than once to shut your mouth; until middle school ended. You would shut up for a week, but resume my self-deprecation and sleepless nights after then, with similar venomous words. Instead of hating you then, I found myself just trying to please you and get accepted by you; in which case, I started bullying a couple of my own friends that you normally bullied on the bus, just so you wouldn't bully me, but you still did. I still feel guilty for that till this day, and still wonder how they forgave me.

Come my sophomore year of high school after my peaceful gap during my freshman year, we never talked at all, other than maybe some antagonizing glances from you from a distance when I walked with a couple of your friends in the hall or on the bus. This was fine with me, I thought you may have grown up a little bit. Also, I had now figured out at this point who my true friends and strong support system were, that I did not deserve your crap, and I was happy with my life, as some peace had now appeared in it. I thought maybe it was the same for you, because now, I heard from people that you have identified as homosexual, and you were proud of it. Also, you would preach about being human and how that was more important than race, and you were a Bernie Sanders supporter. I was happy for you too because I support all of that, and thought we hit a silent truce. However, when did I truly realize your narcissism? That's easy; when you told a friend that you hated me because "she brown, she stank, and she thinks she's cute and everything". Whoa, did someone just say they hate someone else because of their race? Hypocrite much? Also, when people don't like someone, it's usually because they remind them of something they don't like about themselves; you're definitely not brown though, but the others might ring a bell? But hey, who am I to answer that? Maybe, it might be something entirely different, that you're afraid of me knowing? However, I do remember that a couple months before I graduated high school, your last words to me during a brief argument were, "Nobody likes you on this bus!" Well, #triggered much?

Throughout the time you bullied me, the thing I hated most was that I could never hate you, and still don't till this day, but I hated myself. For not being able to stand up to you. For not being able to land a successful comeback at you. For not being able to put you in your place. For not being able to tell you that I couldn't take your crap anymore. For not being able to tell you that I cried each and every night, and never got a good decent sleep, and spent my nights thinking of comebacks for you. For hating to come to school, or on the bus really, every day. For having to anticipate the things you would say to me. For bullying people I didn't want to. For blaming my family, and taking my anger out at them, for not being able to drive me to school instead. For not being able to tell you how terrible you made me feel.

However, now I am glad to say that I did indeed stand up to you; by not arguing silly comebacks with people who weren't worth it, and by remaining alive. I am a survivor. I am now headstrong. I don't let what people say to me get to me anymore. I am stronger than I have ever been before. I am a beautiful soul, just like every other girl I know. Additionally, I am in a healthier place in life, as I moved to Chicago with my family, go to an amazing university, the University of Illinois at Chicago, and my main focus is now just to follow my dreams. Though you live near me, not too far from my house in my old neighborhood, I am not looking forward to seeing you in the future, nor am I scared to see you either.

Also, I now have true friends and family who lift my spirits, support me and don't bring me down. They are my number one pillar of support and have successfully taken my mind off people like you. Usually, I've noticed that bully letters often thank the bullies for making the writers strong and who they are today. However, I won't thank you. I can thank the other bullies whom I mentioned changed over time for that. In fact, anyone who puts another human through such treatment deserves to rot in hell; unless they realize the dick they were to that person, and decide to change. I remember blocking you on all social media even when we were never connected on it, because I wanted no memory of you. I still don't till this day. Also, actions speak louder than words. I don't want you to try and reach out to me, if you ever come across this letter in your life; knowing you I don't think you will. I'd like it better if you think and realize the dick you were to me, and change your behavior towards others you might be terrible to as well. If not, rot in hell, son of a bitch.


Your Victim

P.S. A narcissist in my own words is someone with a highly inflated sense of self-esteem which comes from the toxic, venomous belittling of certain people in their lives.