I used to have a nickname that some kids at school used. I did not choose it, a girl who was popular coined it and others joined in. It was not nice. It was meant to single me out, degrade me. Remind me I was ‘the other’. It hurt. Fortunately we moved and I never had to hear it again…except in my head when I was feeling bad about myself.

I’ve gotten better and don’t let such things get to me anymore. With hindsight and maturity, I can appreciate that the popular girl was probably using my insecurity to make herself feel better, probably because of some issues in her life. We all have pain, and sometimes it’s easier to cast it onto others.

I used to want that popular girl to have to go through what she put me through. Oh yes, I used to play it through my head most nights, my soul stewing in malice and spite. I’ve since gotten past that. With maturity, I’ve learned that what really matters in life are those people who we love and cherish. Their well-being matters more to us than even our own.

That’s why I stopped wanting bad things to happen to her. No, now I want all the horrible things she put me through to be visited on her children a thousandfold, for her to one day have to cope with seeing those she loves go through all the sh*t she caused for me. That will be far worse.

I realized some time ago that I’m not a good person and, you know, I’m cool with that.