Childhood bullies not owed a grown-up happy ending

Dear Miss Manners: I had a miserable childhood, suffering violent abuse and constant ridicule and rejection within my family, from the kids in the neighborhood, and also at school.

The adults who should have stepped in to help either ignored what was happening or occasionally joined in. It was a time when people saw bullying as a fact of life for some kids.

I had a hopeless and lonely existence, without a friend or anyone I could look to for protection or advice. When I was old enough, I got as far away from that place as possible, and I have worked hard since to learn the social skills I need to function in this world.

I have obvious scars, both physical and emotional, from the mistreatment, but I have been able to turn my experiences into a strong sense of empathy. I am a gentle person; young kids and the elderly are drawn to me, and I have a family of my own creation who love me. But anxiety (particularly social anxiety) and PTSD symptoms are also a part of me, and likely always will be.

I recognize that the kids who tortured me when I was young were just kids in need of civilizing, and no doubt have grown up to be lovely human beings. I do forgive them, and I wish them well. I have expressed as much to those whose consciences have pricked them enough to search me out. This does not mean that I wish to be around them, though.

I am being pestered about next year’s class reunion already. It is a milestone year. They want me to see how wonderful everyone has become. They want the chance to apologize and make things right. Apparently, they feel I owe them that.

I respectfully disagree. My polite responses that I would not be available have been met with exclamations that I am being given so much notice — certainly I can rearrange my schedule to be with them, at least for one of the days.

I really do not wish to tell them that scheduling is not the issue, and I suspect that telling the whole truth would only increase their resolve to clear their consciences at all costs. Could Miss Manners offer advice about a good way to make this problem disappear?

Gentle reader: Unfortunately, Miss Manners is sorry to say, your childhood bullies have not, in fact, reformed their ways. Badgering you to attend an event that you have politely and repeatedly declined is a form of social bullying, and you do not have to tolerate it. Neither do you owe them anything more by way of explanation.

Having satisfactorily and politely answered the invitation, your silence — or perhaps one last firm, “I am sorry, but I can’t” — should serve to make the problem go away. If it does not, “It seems that you still have trouble taking no for an answer” might alarm them just enough to be a threat — if they truly are repentant of their unsavory past.

Dear Miss Manners: I have noticed lately that I am often skipped. The other day, it was at the doctor’s office: The lady behind me started talking to the receptionist while signing in, and was then promptly checked in and saw the doctor well before I did.

I did not mention it at the time, but when I was finally called back 45 minutes later, the doctor mentioned that I was late for my appointment. But I would have been on time had the receptionist not checked in the other lady first.

Restaurants are the same: My wife and I will be seated first, but our orders are taken well after others are seated and waited on.

What could I say or do at these moments not to be rude, but to get my message across that I have been skipped?

Gentle reader: Was the lady who went ahead of you clutching her chest? If not, you could have said politely, “Excuse me, I believe I was here first.” In the world of medicine, first-come-first-served does not always apply; however, you and the lady seem to have gone for routine checkups, in which case, it does.

But Miss Manners recalls having spent a day with relatives in a maternity ward waiting room when a nurse appeared and went to congratulate a family who had only just arrived. After saying a firm “Excuse me, but ...” to the nurse, Miss Manners decided to finish the sentence with, “sorry, never mind” and to congratulate the other family.