Since Mother Nature had decided to make it hotter than Satan’s butthole outside today, I stopped by Starbucks to grab a drink while on my way home. I hadn’t been to this specific Starbucks for several months, the last time being a long night of studying prior to an AP exam. While waiting for my order (a grande coffee frappachino, in case you were wondering), I noticed two little girls happily sharing a drink together. Their picture-perfect friendship reminded me of an incident that occurred the last time I had been there. Here’s a summary:

While studying my notes, I overheard three little girls who were sitting at the table next to me gossiping about their “friend” who had momentarily left to go to the bathroom. They were making fun of her physical appearance and mocked her for “copying what they do.” Once the fourth girl had returned, the others quickly changed the subject and seemed to intentionally exclude her from the conversation. The girl seemed uncomfortable but sat quietly, taking occasional sips from her drink. After some time, the parents, who had been sitting at a different table, announced that it was time to go and the girls quickly gathered their belongings and started walking towards the entrance. I watched the fourth girl slug behind the other girls and it was a sight oddly … reminiscent to me.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

The mother of one of the girls stopped and turned around to face me.

“Could I talk to you for a moment?”

Though arbitrary, confronting the mom about the situation wasn’t a decision I regretted. She was surprised by what I witnessed, as if bullying amongst those four girls was something unheard of. It’s hard to notice bullying; outsiders may not have realized that the fourth girl was being excluded unless they were in my position. To a stranger, seeing those four girls sipping their Starbucks drinks and chitchatting away may have been picture perfect, just like the duo I mentioned earlier.

In truth, the entire situation was reminiscent to me because I, too, have been bullied and bullied others. I hadn’t realized that I could relate to both perspectives until all of it had been over and done with. I always viewed my bullies as the bad guys and never considered that maybe they were victims too.

Dear childhood bullies,

They told me sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me — but yours did. They told me to stand up for myself when I didn’t even know who I was yet; the only definition of “me” being the one you created. I traded in homework assignments for playdates, presents for birthday party invitations, and my identity for friendships.

But, I’ll be honest: I used to be one of you. Whether it was to fit in or to just make myself feel better, I did exactly what you did. His name was Stephen. Instead of realizing he needed help, I turned a blind eye. I threw him off the lifeboat instead of pulling us both back to shore. On top of algebra and geology homework, he may have gone home everyday with the challenge of learning to love himself — because of me.

Were you also bullied? Are you victims as well?

Then, you may not have realized that you were a bully, just like I hadn’t.

- Michelle

“... if a kid breaks in a school

and no one around chooses to hear

do they make a sound?” - Shane Koyczan

Please don’t be ignorant of how severe bullying can really be. If you see someone who needs help, lend a hand.