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Unfiltered Story #250787

, , | Unfiltered | January 2, 2022

This story is kind of petty, but it certainly made me feel better. When I was in primary school, my parents made me go to an after-hours club, since they didn’t finish work in time to pick me or my sister up. It was in a decent building, with plenty of toys, books and even a PS1! Most of the kids were nice as well.
Unfortunately, it was run by a woman who provided my first exposure to how completely ignorant adults can be. She had been looking after one of the boys since he was a toddler, and as a result he could basically do no wrong in her eyes. He bullied me every day, said I had done stuff when I hadn’t just to get me into trouble, encouraged everyone else to exclude me – you know the drill.
The thing is, the other staff knew it was happening, and even told the boss, but she wouldn’t hear it. I was always responsible, I always got punished, I always caught a glimpse of that kid’s s***-eating grin.
Anyhow, years later I was visiting the school because my sister was helping with an event. I saw the boss and said hello, thinking ‘she’s an alright person, even if she made those mistakes… daily.’
She introduced me to the kids she was looking after, I said hello and was about to leave when she began talking about how I used to be a ‘troublemaker’ and a ‘liar’. Thing is, she was laughing as if we were sharing a pleasant memory or something.
By this time, teenage angst had set in, and I’d had enough. I told her that, no, that wasn’t how it happened, but she still smiled and said: “no, it was you!”
So, with zero f***s left to give, I blurted out: “It was always him, ‘her name’, you were just too f***ing blind to see it.”
I stormed out. I regret swearing in front of the kids, but I was just completely done. As an adult I found out I was on the autistic spectrum (after I’d been going to a counselor and taking medication for anxiety and depression for several years. Fun times!) Childhood bullying was a big contributor to my mental health issues later on. I regret to say that years after leaving that school, the bully saw me on a bus and tried to start a friendly conversation, and I just told him to f*** off, because I wasn’t interested in forgetting the past.
Was it petty? Yes. Did it fix anything? No. But I learned just how deliciously cathartic it is to bite the bullet and just call people out on their bulls***. You don’t need to forgive everyone, but everyone deserves some kind of closure.

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