
When I was in grade 8, I was friends with this really troubled girl. She didn’t have the best home life, came from a private girls’ school and tried too hard in academics.
She was a bully. Everyday I saw it. We’d walk down the hall and she’d laugh at some poor kid’s acne. She’d laugh at the girl in the corner who hadn’t shaven her legs. She’d laugh at the really sweet teacher who was having a bad day. Everything and anything was fare game, even her friends.
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Every time I told her off, she laughed at me and then started making fun of me. Honestly, I’m not sure why I stayed. I thought maybe she wasn’t so bad. Maybe she could change if she heard the right things. So I stayed friends with her for over a year. Eventually, I became indifferent to her making fun of people. I noticed it less, I tuned it out. Sometimes I even laughed with her.
But every time I was with her, it was a fight for her approval. She’d shove me down the hall and laugh when I fell. She’d drench me with her water bottle and laugh. She’d make fun of me and instead of defending myself, I’d try to be better. Yeah, I thought I was stupid too. It’s easy to see it when it’s someone else’s life, isn’t it?
One day, I had enough. I was sick of her nonsense. So I told her I didn’t want to be friends with her because I thought she was a bully, and I didn’t want to be around someone who could poison me like that.
Boy, was that the wrong move. Long term, it all worked out. Back then, I didn’t know anything about using tact and killing people with kindness. Her wrath became so bad that every time I walked past her, she’d shove into me or push me into a wall, call me rude names under her breath and laugh like a hyena down the hall. I’d be walking between the desks to get to my seat and she and her friend would put their feet out to try and trip me. I’d get up in front of the class to make a speech and she’d spend the entire time laughing. She would throw things at me. Spread rumours about me. I didn’t listen. I refused to stoop to her level. I ignored her comments, brushed off her pushes, stepped over her feet when they were in my path.
My friends, however, I guess didn’t have the same self control. A few of my other friends and I were called into a teacher’s office one lunch break. The bully had said that we were bullying her. We got a hefty lecture and detention. We were the bad guys. She played the victim so well. She told my class teacher that I was giving her trouble. I had yet another meeting with a teacher. Teachers don’t like bullies. They don’t believe you when you say you’re innocent. They roll their eyes, dish out detention and criticise everything you do from there on. They try to put you in your place every time they see you.
It was torture. I missed a lot of school. I cried a lot. I felt helpless. But I wouldn’t stoop to her level.
After a few years we had only a few classes together. I continued to ignore her, and she began to ignore me. There were still scars, and occasionally I’d still get hit with the sting of her tail.
I made new friends – great friends. One’s who loved me for my flaws, friends who were kind and sweet. Friends who didn’t bully other people.
I put up with her nonsense for so long because I felt sorry for her. I thought she was just hurting. She never knew her father. She didn’t have the best appearance.
Don’t fall like I did. Some people don’t deserve your sympathy. If they act like a B*^#h, they’re a B*^#h and there’s no excuse for that. There’s no excuse for destroying people just because they don’t want to be your friend. No excuse for telling lies about people. No excuses for making people have sleepless, crying nights because of the harsh things you do to them.
I have a friend who hardly ever saw her dad, her mom was poor and my friend was forced to live with her aunt to continue attending school. She never made fun of people. She was sweet. She was grateful.
The point is, no matter your circumstance, it’s no excuse for being a b*#ch.
What I should have done, I know now, is tell her that I’d like to spend a bit more time with my other friends, and gradually move away from her. If it worked out badly, then I should have reported her right away for being a bully. I didn’t deserve to be her punching bag.
Bully’s come in all shapes and sizes. Emotional manipulators are most common. People who make you feel guilty when you won’t do something for them, people who make your feats seem so small compared to theirs, they take no accountability for their actions, and they take the credit for the good things that other people do.
There’s verbal bullying, physical bullying, indirect bullying (spreading rumours), Social alienation (rumours, making someone’s differences stand out, excluding someone, making them feel like an outsider), intimidation, and cyber bulling.
There are so many adverse affects of bullying. You can send someone into depression, make them have nightmares, make them do badly at school or skip school, loss in appetite, headaches, stomach aches, you can make people lose their self confidence, you can turn them into a bully, and perhaps the worst; bullycide – suicide due to bullying.
Bullying is no joke.
Whether you’re the victim, an onlooker or the bully, you have to do something.
If you’re the victim, tell someone you trust – someone in charge. If you’re a witness, you can either tell someone of authority anonymously or you can make friends with the victim. You’d be surprised how much difference a friend can make someone’s life.
If you’re the bully, take some time to put yourself in the other person’s shoes. Are you being a bully by choice or are you being bullied into being a bully?
You are worth so much. You are special, amazing and talented in a way that no one else is.
No-body has the right to bully you, so don’t let them.
Wow Rosalyn, it took a lot of guts to stand up for yourself like that and also to stay true to yourself and not stoop to her level. You’ve seriously inspired me this Monday! Thanks for sharing this story. I’m sure its gonna help lots of chica’s out there stuck in the same situation.
Heartbreaking stuff. It is so difficult being a teenager. Now as an adult I know that in the end all that angst we go through is so inconsequential and really has no real value or importance in the bigger scheme of things. I wish I could impart what I know now on young girls and make them understand that they are so much stronger than they would ever give themselves credit for. But no matter how much you talk to young people, you cannot learn their lessons for them. The best we can do is stand by them and support them when they need it.