Remorse of a Teenage Bully

Recently, one morning as I sat down to check my email, straight out of the blue a girl that I was good friends with while in Elementary School popped into my mind. It was all very strange since I had not seen her since our High School days and I definitely had not thought about her in the past twenty years, until that day. Her name echoed in my mind as I stared at the computer screen. I stopped and  sat back in my chair and repeated her name, T.B. I believe we met sometime in third or fourth grade, or was it second grade? In any case, we became great friends. She attended my birthday parties, we shared the same classroom, played together at recess, on some days talked on the phone after school for half an hour (her mother used to set the timer while we talked about whatever it is little Elementary girls talk about). I regularly wanted to spend the night at her house. It was always a stressful topic to bring up to my Mother. She was old school Mexican and didn’t understand this sleep over business. Every time I asked permission she declared the same thing, “Your friends are more than welcome to spend the night here”. HERE? The reason I so badly wanted to spend the night at my friends house was to get out of our two bedroom one bath apartment that I shared with five other people! I wanted to experience what it was like to sleep in a bedroom that had only one twin bed and desk with plenty of room for dolls and books. So on a few rare occasions I was granted my wish.

Our innocent years quickly came to an end after sixth grade. I did not attend the same Junior High School that everyone I knew went to. I opted to attend the one on the north side of town just like my big brother had. I didn’t stay in touch with T.B. or any of my other little friends. I made a whole new group of friends the two years I was there. It was also around this time I began to change. I built a defense mechanism around me. I became tough. The sort of tough that a kid resorts to in order to protect themselves from haven been emotionally abandoned. A lot of the pent up confusion I carried was beginning to stir hard and deep against my chest and got worse over my freshman year. By the time I began my sophomore year I exploded and launched a full blown attack on anyone. ANYONE. It didn’t matter if I had known them since we were little kids in Elementary School and shared secrets or if we met in Junior High School and together ran over to Music Plus music store on the corner of 14th and Wilshire Blvd. to purchase Tiffany’s cassette. If you were not currently a part of my immediate posse you were a target. Unfortunately that included T.B. (and plenty of other sweet girls as well.). For absolutely no reason at all I disliked her. Had anyone asked me what exactly she did to me, because the way I carried on you would have thought she must had done the most unimaginable, unforgivable thing to me, yet she didn’t. They only thing she did wrong was be in my way as I raged with teenage anger, neglect, betrayal, hurt and confusion that at the time I didn’t understand how to handle. I was relentless. I called her names and every time I saw her I looked at her with disgust.

One exact week later my husband and I walked out of a restaurant in Santa Monica and onto the sidewalk. As we began to walk I noticed a young girl on her scooter and a young boy on his skate board. The Father warned the boy about the two of us walking towards them on the sidewalk so the boy jumped off his skate board and began to walk. As the Father and I passed each other by I acknowledged his politeness and thanked him. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of her. I swiftly turned my head around and at the exact same moment she turned back to look at me. I immediately turned my head back around, “Shit! I know her”. My husband is not one to  play cool. He did the complete opposite of me. He stopped as I continued walking and looked back. “She’s looking back at you!” I just about died. “Keep walking”, I hissed. My husband didn’t understand why I reacted the way I did. As we turned the corner and into the parking lot I explained very rapidly as a colossal ball grew in my throat that I was completely tripping out because exactly one week ago, after many years she popped into my mind AND now I just saw her and kept walking and didn’t acknowledge her AND because of that she probably thinks I am still the same bitch that tormented her. My husband clearly moved by how emotional I became suggested that we go back and see if we could still catch T.B. and her family walking down Ocean Park Blvd. At first I hesitated. For a moment I felt nervous and thought, What would I say to her? Would she accept my hello? Or would she pretend she didn’t remember me? Then I agreed. We walked back and found the sidewalk was empty.

What T.B. doesn’t know is that I am profoundly remorseful. What she doesn’t know is that on occasions I bump into girls that I tormented and feel like a complete asshole and am ashamed of how I behaved. I was mean and hateful and obviously it had everything to do with me. What she doesn’t know is that deep down inside while I was being a bully to her and many other girls I was lonely and didn’t have anyone to share my feelings with. I was so unhappy and deeply hurt by things that were going on at home. No one checked in with me and asked how I was doing. The same amount of rage I spewed is the exact same rage I felt inside. I was lost. What she doesn’t know is that I worked really hard to understand myself better. What she doesn’t know is that when my little niece was having trouble at school because of a bully, with a broken heart I admitted to her that I was once a bully. What she doesn’t know is that I grew and understand the importance of checking in with the children in my life letting them know that I am here for them and with that I hope to do my part and break the cycle.

What she and all the other people I was relentlessly mean to don’t know is that I think about my behavior often and I am genuinely sorry.