When I was a junior in college, I was seeing a therapist who told me that what I think people think of me and what people actually think of me are two entirely different things. I was 20-years old and I legitimately did not believe her.
|This is incredibly immature of me.|
A year or so ago I got a facebook message from the girl who did most of the bullying. I never responded. I never even read the whole thing. I'm bitter and immature and I can still feel the anxiety in my stomach when I drive past my high school. I hate that it still gets to me, that I can, with ease, place myself back at my locker in 2006, to that girl walking past me and making fun of my clothes. My palms are sweaty now. As far as I know, she never got into any serious trouble, and I still hate the teachers and administrators who knew what was happening and chose not to care or do anything about the bullying. I hope it haunts them the same way it haunts me. They aren't--and that motivates me. I want to succeed and stick it in their faces, show them that I made it This far without their help, despite being bullied.