As part of a summer internship working for a state representative campaign, I was required to go door to door and canvas neighborhoods in my town, disseminating literature about the candidate I was campaigning for.
The town, being as small as it is, made me bound to run into the parents of my former colleagues and potentially my classmates themselves if their parents were not home. I encountered the latter in a way most people would think unpleasant: I blundered onto the front porch of an older boy who had made it his mission to make high school for me as terrible as possible.
Without going into too many details, he would spread stories about me, try his hardest to make me feel unwelcome at my favorite clubs, and just overall be condescending. His magnus opus, however was when he got me removed from the seat of president of a club by calling a vote of impeachment when I was home and unable to attend the meeting. He went out of his way to humiliate and hurt me.
In the beginning, his words stung deep and his actions left me feeling hollow, especially since I had considered us to be close friends. After a considerable amount of time self-pitying and loathing, I had moved on to just being angry. I was angry at him, angry at myself for having such a friend, and angry at whatever unfair system had dealt me the hand I held. Over time that anger was what drove me to excel in my other endeavours; in my writing, in my classes, and at fencing—what I hold dearest to my heart. Sadness turned to anger and anger revitalized lost ambition—at one point I had considered not being a political science major; what would I have done with myself then? The ambition materialized into hard work, and eventually results. Results I was proud of.
His bullying slowly crept from my mind, and it seemed lost there until I saw him once at school my senior year and I could barely look in his direction. My blood had frozen. Again, I turned fear into hard work. So finally, I went the rest of senior year, graduation, and the majority of my summer without seeing him or even thinking about him, until just a few days ago when I knocked on his door.
He opened it, threw back his head in a cackle—and I am serious, it was a cackle—and as I said, “Are you interested?” he turned around, said “No” and slammed the door in my face.
As I continued to canvas the neighborhood I thought more and more about what had happened and I began to imagine a conversation between us: I thought of every insult he could throw at me and I thought how I would counter and smile, showing that his words did not unnerve me. I thought about all the good that had happened to me after we stopped interacting: how I became a stronger fencer, how I regained my intellectual interests and hunger, how overall I was a healthier (barring the fact that I am writing this after going to Five Guys), smarter and happier person. Not really because of my bully, but in spite of him.
That was my takeaway from that short minute of interaction: I am going to college. I am doing bigger and better things with my life than I ever did in high school and no gaunt ghost from junior year would ever change that. A year ago, I probably would have yelled and tried to punch him in the face. A few days ago, I saw him and felt absolutely nothing.
I even sent a text telling him that we should get together sometime and chat; no malice, no rage, just a pleasant text inviting him to talk like old friends. He never responded, but I would like to think I proved myself the bigger man.
So the overall takeaway, in my mind, was that these bullies have power in their own domains. They pull strength from the microcosmic society that is high school, but after high school, time passes. When you are moving on to be an adult and go to college and pursue whatever it is your heart desires, their power is gone. It has been sapped away by time until all that is left is the husk of something that used to torment you. High school is not forever, and bullies last even less. They can never force you to do something or change your life in such a way that it is forever altered. They can only give you a voodoo doll for all your negative energy—a stand-in to accomplish your greatest heights, in spite of everything they tried.
