From the time I was 7 years old, you would call me names or whisper about me to your friends. You wouldn't sit by me at lunch or play with me at recess, and as much as it hurt me to know none of the other kids liked me, I had one friend to stand by my side that made things a little bit better. I escaped you and had to leave my one friend when I changed schools, and I thought I might finally have friends and no one would point at me and laugh or run away.

When 4th grade hit, I would have begged to go back to the mean little kids and lonely lunches. You were vicious. You nearly broke me. I never had a voice because you shut me down any chance that you got. That stereotype of the nerd having to carry the jock's books? It's not funny when it's your daily reality—especially when those books are actually 4 backpacks that aren't even yours. You invited me places just so you could make fun of me to my face. I had no choice but to go since you alienated me from everyone else. So you weren't just my bullies, you were the only people that would have me around. You forced me into having only toxic relationships. I don't know if you know this, but one of the memories that haunts me most is your fault—I was ten and I can clearly recall wondering if anyone would miss me if I were gone. You destroyed my self-worth to the point that I truly did not think anyone but my family cared about me. Congratulations.

But even through the years of torment I suffered, I never fully believed that you were somehow better or stronger than I was. I always kept some smidgen of strength that allowed me to crawl out of my bed and drag myself to school, trailing behind you, wondering if today would be better. I found myself believing in a world that didn't exist yet, where I wouldn't have to stay silent or risk the consequences. I pushed on because some fraction of my brain knew that you did not determine my future. You could not keep me down.

As hard as you tried to control me as we grew older, I became more resilient and less worried about what you said or thought of me. I began rolling with the punches, which disarmed you. Finally, I was able to connect with the world and find relationships that I was treated as an equal in because your grip on my life was slipping and I was no longer suffocating.

The years have gone on, and I still think about what you put me through and how it could have turned out so much worse. Instead, I stand strong. I don't waste time on people who only use me as a punching bag. I know that I don't need to depend on the opinions of other people in order to know I am valued. I am able to face my demons rather than letting them control my everyday.

So, I want to say thank you. Thank you for making me a better person. Thank you for not letting me glide through life with anything but thick skin. Thank you for teaching me that I am something worth fighting for.

I would not be where I am today if it weren't for you.

P.S. To those who stood by my side, you have helped me in more ways than I can count and probably more than I'm even conscious of. Whether you held my hand from the beginning or came along later on down the road, I can never repay you for what you've done for me.

And to those who may still be struggling, you can do it. Keep believing in each new day.

You are worth so much more than you know.