I watched a movie “The gift”, 2015. Not the best thrillers I’ve seen, but it made me think, reflect. It hit too close to home.

I wasn’t a bully per se, but I wasn’t an angel either.

I got bullied myself, but I,also, was mean to certain others. I tried to, anyway. At that time it seemed, like a way to fit in, and God how I wished to “fit in”; to be normal, to be liked and accepted.

I was constantly in hell, because my nature was rebelling against the idea of hurting anyone without a good reason, but there was another part that was a bit curious; that got pleasure from it.

So, I did something that I will never be proud of, and I paid for it dearly too. I deserved it. I know that I did, and I am still ashamed for my past actions, even though I forgave myself and am forgiven by the offended party.

But it still got me thinking – bullies – they are, well, kids. Yes, it gets blown out of proportion, sometimes, and ruins lives, – exactly because they.are.kids.

I remember the nauseating fear; the heart pounding in my ears; the tears burning in my eyes; the curse on the tip of my tongue – but the vice of horror – it could be me, it could be me, it could be me – I chose me over my friend; over a person I swear to protect. I still loath myself for the weakness. I can forgive, but I cannot forget.

I will never forget. The shame will never go away. I will not let it. I understand my actions, and accept them. They are in an essence unforgivable.

But, I can moan around ’bout it or learn, and I did. It took me a decade to break through my destroyed self-image, but I did, and now I protect, even though the fear does not go away, ever.