Letter to My Bully

“Does it haunt your sleep at night, knowing that you wrecked so many people when you were in high school?

Do you ever even ponder those days when you would beat the piss out of me, and just laugh about it?

Do you ever cringe when you remember you and the other one trading kidney punches on me, laughing and saying that you’re going to “wear those kidneys out”?

Do you remember how you used to prey on my fears, and make me and some of the others do push-ups until we were physically ill?

I had dreamt of nothing but playing football for my entire childhood, since I was 3 years old, but in one short season you managed to take a lifetime of dreams and crush them into powder.

I stood in heartbreak as I watched my dreams blow away like dust in the wind.

Did you know that?

Were you aware of that? Do you freaking care?

After high school I moved three hours away and reinvented myself, mainly because of reprobates like you. I was not just angry at life; I was LIVID. I donned a motorcycle jacket and fingerless gloves, and refused to take any crap from anyone after that. I didn’t care if the dude could kick my guts in, I wasn’t scared of him.

Your treatment wrapped me in a blanket of fear and hatred from which I nearly didn’t recover.

Does that bother you at all?

Or did you move on, graduate high school, get married, start a family and never give me another thought?

I’m just curious because I’m still suffering repercussions from your treatment of me.

Maybe I always will.

Now, you should know, I don’t sit around crying about the proverbial “spilled milk.” There’s no whining about how “He picked on me when I was a freshman.” What a waste of life that would be. BUT…

It bruised and battered my confidence so bad it took me years to recover.

You see, my wife is what I call a “street kid,” having spent her early childhood roaming the streets of downtown Indianapolis. She also grew up with two older brothers, so she’s tough. So what does this have to do with anything?

Well, her and her brothers would do what I call “give each other crap.” They jokingly make fun of their siblings, teasing each other pretty hard and then expecting the other to give it right back to them. But I was so emotionally battered and bruised that I took her teasing as “insults” for a LONG time. She at first thought I was just weak, and I didn’t know how to explain it to her.

What would happen, though, is that my brain would interpret “hard teasing” as REAL. “Yes,” my mind would say, “I am an idiot.” Finally…finally…I was praying about it, and the Lord dropped some knowledge on me.

“She’s from the streets,” He said. “She’s tough, but she does it in love. The answer to this is to give it right back to her! THAT’S what she wants!”

So I tried it; she playfully “insulted” me (even though it was always just teasing, not to be taken literally) and I turned around and done the same thing. She laughed, and we moved on. That’s been the nature of our crazy/amazing relationship ever since.

See, your battering and bruising my confidence nearly destroyed my marriage. It was almost impossible for me to find the good in life, because my head was crowded with so much bad.

But I want you to know this:

I win.

Laura and I have been together since 1985. We have two amazing, beautiful kids, two equally astounding “children-in-law” and six grandchildren, including one on the way and one waiting to meet us in Heaven.

I have two college degrees, and a great job as the Director of Student Success for a Bible & Theology university.

I’ve self-published two books; a book of poetry with my son and a book of testimonies (available on Amazon, by the way), and am about to start writing one with my daughter, about holding on to faith during the dark times.

…times like high school. God knows how much I hated high school.

A happy, excited freshman walked into high school. A hallowed-out shell walked out four years later.

While I have forgiven you a LONG time ago (no offense but you weren’t worth me wrecking my health over, so I sorta had to let it all go), I’ve never forgotten anything. Not one thing.

I still remember the pain, the fear. I recall you directing the entire kickoff team to aim solely for ME. I still remember the sleepless nights, and the relief I felt when you graduated (though I had been beaten down so hard by then I really didn’t care about anything). Yeah, I remember it all, man.

Why do you think I teach my grandsons to “not take any crap off anybody”?

This all rests as shadows in my mind, but like walking briskly down the sidewalk under streetlights at night, it might slow me down a little but hasn’t stopped me from achieving my dreams.

I’ve travelled all over the world, and in the words of the principal from BREAKFAST CLUB, (most) everyone likes me.

I’m a swell guy.

I just wanted you to know that you didn’t beat me. You tried, but you failed.

YOU LOSE.”

(Dear reader: it is very, very difficult for me to share this, as even my own kids didn’t know the extent to which I was bullied. I felt like I needed to share this, however, if only to let victims of bullies know that “they” don’t have to win! Don’t give up! These weak, pathetic individuals aren’t worth you losing a night’s sleep over, let alone taking your own life. Please know that I’m praying for you to find a way out. Just tell somebody; share your secret.

And mostly, don’t take their crap. I love you, and I believe in you. Don’t give up!)