Being bullied? Talk about it

Recently, I saw the person who bullied me back in junior high. Here we were, 24 years later, and I saw her walking by in Gatineau Park. In those few seconds, I remembered those difficult years. Seeing her again made me think about that time, about what I went through, about the person I was and who I have become.

And then I read about the young Rebecca Ann Sedwick who jumped to her death in Florida in September. And I cried. I cried for her, who must have been through hell. Now a mom of two, I cried for her parents, who are going though every parent’s worst nightmare. I cried for all the other people who are bullied today and don’t know what to do about it.

Being bullied had a big effect on my self-confidence. I wanted to be invisible. From Monday to Friday, 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., I hoped to avoid the bully. I would hold my breath until I came back home. Then, on nights and weekends, I would breathe. That time away from school gave me some strength.

It seems Rebecca did not have any respite. Today, bullying happens all the time, whether by text or on social media. She was hounded all the time. How could she ever breathe? My parents, who were very present and involved in my life, had no idea what I was going through. They found out at the end of eighth grade, when I finally told them everything. It was easy to hide what I went through. To this day, only a few people know I was bullied.

I hope that by reading this, parents will talk to their kids. Because even though we think everything is OK, it’s not always the case. I hope that students who read this and know someone who is a victim of bullying will try to help them.

And if you are reading this and you are being bullied, I hope you talk to someone. Because even though it’s hard right now to imagine your future, I can give you a glimpse of what could be waiting for you: in 24 years, you will see, out of the blue, your bully. And after the mild shock, you will take your husband’s arm, you will look at your kids, and you will go on breathing.

GENEVIèVE LOSIER, Orléans