I Bullied a Boy in Middle School & Ruined His Life

I need to confess something that has been eating me alive for years. I used to be a bully in middle school. I know, it’s awful. I’m now 21 years old, and the weight of what I did back then is almost unbearable. It’s not something I can easily brush off or forget, and honestly, I don’t think I deserve to. The guilt is a constant companion, a dark shadow that follows me everywhere I go. I replay the events in my head, cringing at my past self and desperately wishing I could take it all back. I understand that apologies can only go so far and that the damage is already done, but I still feel the need to express just how deeply sorry I am for the pain I inflicted. I’m not looking for forgiveness, nor do I believe I deserve it. I am merely hoping that by sharing my story, others might learn from my mistakes and avoid causing similar harm to those around them. It is so important to be mindful of our actions and to understand the lasting impact they can have on others. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way, and I will continue to carry this burden as a reminder of the person I once was and the person I strive to never be again. Maybe one day I will find a way to move past this, but until then, I can only hope that my confession serves as a warning to others: words and actions can have devastating consequences, and we must always strive to be kind and compassionate in our interactions with others.
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It all started when I was in 7th grade. My dad had just passed away from cancer, and I was a mess. I’m not trying to make excuses for my behavior, but it’s important to understand the context. I was filled with so much anger and sadness, and I had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. There were no resources available to me at the time, and I felt completely lost and alone in my grief. Instead of seeking help or finding healthy ways to cope with my emotions, I, unfortunately, directed all my hatred and pain toward this one particular boy. I chose him as a target, a scapegoat for all the negative feelings I was experiencing. Looking back, I know that it was completely unfair and that he did not deserve any of the abuse I inflicted upon him. I just couldn’t find a better way to deal with the pain. It was a terrible decision, and I deeply regret the harm I caused him. His name was N.

N was a pretty shy kid, quiet and introverted, but he had a nice group of friends who seemed to genuinely care about him. One day, for reasons I still don’t fully understand, he confided in me about his difficult home life. He told me that his father was abusive and that he had promised himself he would never hurt a girl. In my twisted state of mind, I saw this as an opportunity. I took his vulnerability and used it against him. Because I was a girl, I assumed that he wouldn’t retaliate, and I shamelessly took advantage of his good nature. I started harassing him relentlessly. It wasn’t just teasing or playful banter; it was a constant barrage of mean words, mocking insults, and even physical violence on a regular basis. I made his life a living hell, and I am deeply ashamed of my actions.

This cruel behavior went on for more than two years. I never considered myself a leader or ringleader in any way. I was more of a straight-A student, the kind of girl that no one would ever suspect of acting in such a way. My actions didn’t escalate into group bullying, but I know that I really hurt him on a deep, personal level. I targeted him specifically, focusing on his insecurities and vulnerabilities. I used my knowledge of his personal life to inflict the most pain possible. It was a calculated and deliberate act of cruelty, and I am disgusted with myself for it. I can only imagine the psychological toll that my actions took on him. I feel terrible that I caused him so much unnecessary pain. I was so young and stupid.

In 9th grade, one of my middle school friends started dating N. She would often tell me how much my actions had impacted him. She shared stories of his struggles and the lasting scars that I had left on him. It was through her that I began to realize the full extent of the damage I had caused. She told me that he was constantly reminded of my bullying. He started to self-harm, initially because he wanted to erase a physical scar that I had left on him. But eventually, it escalated into a dangerous addiction. Hearing this was a punch to the gut. I felt sick to my stomach. [“I WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS PAIN!”]. He was hurting himself, and it was all because of me. The guilt was overwhelming, and I knew that I had to do something, anything, to try and make amends. I am so angry with myself for what I did.

It took me a long time to fully grasp the seriousness of my actions. But during the summer before 10th grade, I finally decided to send him a message, apologizing for everything I had done. I poured my heart out, expressing my deep regret and remorse. He responded by saying that it was nothing and that he didn’t really care, but his actions betrayed his words. In the following months, every time we walked past each other in the hallways, he would freeze or flinch, as if he were bracing himself for another attack. I don’t blame him for it, obviously. The damage was already done, and I had created a sense of fear and anxiety that lingered long after my apologies. I felt like he didn’t fully understand that my apologies were genuine. I felt like he still thought I was capable of hurting him again. Maybe I was just projecting my own guilt onto him, but the interaction was always awkward and uncomfortable.

Now, it’s been six years since those events, but I’m still obsessed with him. I know it’s totally fucked up, so I would never act on it, but I constantly feel the urge to talk with him again. I want to know how it really was for him, how he is doing now, and why he never tried to sue me or ask for reparations. I despise myself so much for the pain I caused him. I can’t bring myself to talk about N to my psychologist, but I really need to get this off my chest, or I might just go speak to him directly. I know it’s not a good idea, but the urge is overwhelming. I need to find a way to move past this and stop dwelling on the past, but it’s easier said than done. I just hope that one day I can find some peace and learn to forgive myself, even if he never does.

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