Dear you,

For a long time, I denied everything, told myself that this was normal. Told myself that I deserved this, and maybe I did. And for a long time, I almost forgot about those years of hell I went through, how I had no one to talk to, not one friend. Not one.

But now, four years later, it seems like I should have let this go. I should have, but I can’t. It’s all I can think about, and I know you never even look at me. I so desperately wanted an apology, anything, but what would that do? Would it take away the three years of excruciating pain and self hatred I suffered? No. So I don’t want your apology. I can’t even take it.

I wish my family could have known what was going on. I wish I would have told them the truth, instead of lashing out at them. They didn’t deserve that, and I knew it. But I was a coward, I just couldn’t tell them the prison my mind had become. I was so ashamed.

I know you weren’t the only one. Hell, the entire school was in on it. The snide remarks, exclusion, insults hurled and constant berating, I couldn’t shut it out. I couldn’t shut you out, so I shut everything else out.

I was afraid to go to school, afraid to walk through those doors and see the judgmental looks and hear the hurtful words. I was afraid to face my teachers that I no longer put effort towards because I was simply too distracted by trying to make you no longer hate me. I was afraid to go home, because I knew I’d get in a fight with my parents or my sisters and I was afraid to go to my room because I knew I’d curl up and cry. I was afraid to go to the bathroom because I knew I’d make myself throw up again. I was afraid to go to sleep because of the nightmares. I was afraid, I was afraid. I was afraid of myself.

I didn’t eat; I didn’t sleep. I prayed that I would somehow stop breathing in my sleep and let go, come home. I prayed that this was all some sort of twisted nightmare I’d wake up from. I just wanted it all to end. I just wanted to die.

Did you ever think about how your cruelty made me feel? Did you ever think about anything you did?

We are seniors in high school now, and I heard you are a leader of an anti-bullying league. How fitting. At first, I’d thought maybe, just maybe, you’d changed. And I hope you did, but I know you haven’t. You’re just better at hiding the person you truly are.

I always wondered though, why me? What did I ever do or say to you that would fuel this kind of hate? From the first time you laid those hostile eyes on me, I felt it. The first time we met, and you said I was nothing like my beautiful, popular older sister, I knew. But I didn’t know it would escalate the way it did.

Everyday is a new battle for me. I am healing; it’s been years. I have good friends that love me and a family that is there for me. I haven’t told anyone the full extent of what truly happened, and I don’t want to; there is no sense in burdening my loved ones with the past. It happened, it’s over. I don’t want to think about it anymore, but I know I’ll never truly forget. From bullying spun eating disorders and self-hatred. And although I am healthy and happy now, I still have days where the scars burn just a little too much.

But it’s different now. I am different.

I smile and it reaches my hazel eyes. I let others in; I love. I didn’t let this ruin my life, and even though I have not fully gotten over it, I am on my way. Everyday, I think about you less and less. And on the nights that nightmares of being back in that school wrack my shivering body, I remind myself that I am safe now, and you can never hurt me again.

If it’s you that ever reads this, I want you to know that everything you do, everything you say has an impact. Be a positive one. I don’t care if you ever regret what you did to me or not, just don’t do it to anyone else.

We are not worthless, we are not less than. We are worthy of love, of jubilation. Don’t let your past define your future.

And most of all, don’t let your light burn out.

KWH