To All The Kids Who Bullied Me Before
I mean, where do I start?
First and foremost, fuck you. Like seriously.
Periodt.
Secondly, can you just not?
I know that we all go through our fair share of life, but that doesn’t give you the right to project your fucked up homelife on other people. I’m sorry to be harsh, but it’s true. You don’t know what the hell I was going through, and I can even say the same about all of you. We knew nothing about each other with the exception of designated homerooms and lunch periods. We don’t know what goes on behind closed doors – whose mother is beating who, who gets touched by that awful drunk uncle, who doesn’t even have a home to go to. Not to say that I went through any of that, but I could’ve and you would’ve never known because you were too busy judging the fact that I couldn’t afford Baby Phat or Apple Bottoms, rather than the context of my character.
Luckily, I was strong enough to “fight the good fight,” whatever the fuck that means, and go on to tackle my PTSD from bullying, but what if I wasn’t? There are so many times where I’ve thought about taking my own life because I didn’t feel good enough for your punk asses. The next time you want to open your mouth to say something, note that you don’t know who’s going through what. They may need someone to pull them off the ledge, and you may be the one giving them the final push.
Third, you really weren’t shit.
How dare you bully me for being smarter than you? Do you understand how many times I went home and cried in my room because you motherfuckers called me an “Oreo”? Do you know what that does to a child – being punished for being intelligent beyond her age range and not being accepted by her own community and peers. As children amongst children, we don’t necessarily realize how hurtful something really is – or maybe we do. If you’re in the category of those that do, then you’re worse than I thought.
My life in elementary and middle school was a pure shit show because I was bullied everyday for regular adolescent shit – I did my homework and turned it in on time, participated in class, had a crush on the hottest guys in class and ate lunch from home. Yet and still, I get penalized for trying to be “normal,” but the only thing that was normalized for me was being ridiculed for going up to the board and getting As on class projects. For everything I said, I was teased – taking AP classes, choosing to be a teacher’s assistant rather than go to lunch, wear loafers to school instead of Jordans. Like, really? You’re gonna pick on a bitch for some fucking shoes?
Here’s my thing – if I’m not bothering you, why would you bother me? I couldn’t even tell you your own last names if you asked me. I didn’t care about you at all, so why did it seem as though your life’s mission was to take me down from a pedestal I never even put myself on? Did y’all try this shit on the valedictorian of your graduating class? Would you try this on Michelle Obama, Oprah, or Yara Shahidi? Don’t worry, I’ll wait…
Lastly, don’t hit me up.
Please, for the love of God, do NOT hit me up asking me if I remember you, or if I remember that time when. No, nigga, I don’t. However, what I do remember is you talking about me behind my back and cracking jokes about me. I don’t want your apologies, I don’t need closure, but what I do need is for you to just not contact me. You see me “doing my thing” and “flexing for the ‘gram,” so you find it necessary to hit me up and tell me that you’re proud of me.
No, bitch. You’re not proud of me, you’re fucking shocked.
You’re shocked that despite your best efforts, I actually went on to do something besides work in Queens Acres Mall or wait on the next nigga to give me my dick fix. I am out here living my best life – employed, degreed and happy. Even on my off days, I am still better than the person you ever were to me in grade school.
Thank you for taking your time to read this letter and I seriously hope you’ve grown. To those of you who have children, train them up in the way they should go – the successful, happy, non-asshole route is the most recommended, but I’m not a parent so what the fuck do I know.
Lead good lives!