Dear High School Bully,
It’s been a while since we’ve talked, and if I was still the same person I was when we were at the peak of our strife with each other, I’d say that I’m overjoyed at not having to see you anymore. Shockingly, that is not the case.
I’m not sure what constitutes as bullying, but I know that the words I’d hear behind my back, the online posts about me, and the constant fear of even just walking down the halls in case I saw you was enough to feel like bullying. In all honesty, I know I was guilty in returning the nastiness as a defense mechanism, but I truly felt like there was no way out of that cyclical cycle.
We grew up in a generation that tweeted how we felt, rather than talking with one another face to face. We attacked each other via Facebook posts, our friends joining in on the action, choosing sides without even knowing what was going on. We had the ease of the “block” button so we never had to see each other’s posts, however we always had our informants. I look back now and I'm thankful that I haven't resorted to these tactics for years, and I hope you haven't either.
Without the two years of what I used to consider the worst part of my high school career and the many years of hauntingly depressing thoughts that followed, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I wouldn’t know how to be around people that I don’t get along with. I wouldn’t have the patience to deal with stressful encounters. I wouldn’t have developed the “tough skin” that often comes in handy throughout my adult life.
In truth, you taught me a lot about myself. I look back now and realize that those years were actually the most important years of my life, as they helped shape me into the person I currently am. They taught me who my real friends were, who would stick up for me and who wouldn't.
I suppose the point is after five years of hating you, I finally forgave you. It wasn't because you'd apologized or that any form of contact had been made. It was because I was tired of holding on to so much negativity. I was tired of lugging it around with me everywhere, the baggage of self-esteem issues and drama I was holding on to. It was a very freeing experience, disentangling myself from the past, something I hope you experience if you haven't already.
I want you to know that I care about you and that when I look back on the memories with you, they’re not memories of disgust, hate or even bullying anymore. They’re more than that. They've grown into memories of learning and forgiveness. For giving me that, I’m grateful.
With warmest regards,
A Girl Who Finally Let Go
