...Or so my brother said to me one day last spring. He was referring to some kids that had brought his young son to tears with a mean prank. I couldn’t help but think of my own first-hand knowledge of such things.
We were the new kids and it was grade three, our mom told us to just be ourselves. Little did she know that there was a girl in my class that had decided that she would take on the lead role as my tormenter.
It quickly became my daily routine to avoid her, or in fact, anyone who might be a part of the group she led. It seemed to be an impossible feat, as I became fodder for several kids with her spurring them on. Years of this ensued, and I was forced to hide in my self-imposed shell, barely passing grade after grade due to my lack of participation in class and my spotty attendance. Finally at the ripe old age of 15 I decided I was no longer going to subject myself to such vilification and I quit school. Finally after all of these years I was free of her, finally.
It has been over two decades and I have been fortunate enough to return to school as an adult. I graduated at the top of my class too! Apparently I was not as stupid as I believed or was told I was. I am now a staunch supporter of anyone that is treated unfairly and I refuse to tolerate any unacceptable behaviour towards myself or my loved ones. I believe I have come a long way since those days, but I still have not been able to forgive her misconduct. To this day she still calls me on my birthday; I thank her and avoid her predictable invitations to reunite. I feel like a hypocrite for even speaking to her, as I am still harbouring so much animosity towards her. I have thought much about this and there is rarely a day that passes that I don’t think of it all. I know that one day I must speak to her from the heart and tell her how very much she hurt me but I don’t think I am ready yet…