I Made Fun of a Guy's Mom for Having Cancer

Let me be honest from the start: I made fun of someone's mom for having cancer. I posted it on my Instagram story. I made jokes about her hair falling out. I mocked the idea of having cancer as "loserish." And I don't regret it.

That sounds horrible. I know. But let me explain.

The Backstory

I was friends with this guy in middle and high school. At least, I thought we were friends. But he was always passive-aggressive with me. He'd mock my interests, make snide comments, and try to alienate me from our other friends. I brushed it off for years because I thought we were cool. But looking back, he wasn't a good friend to me, just a casual one. I overestimated my worth.

By the end of sophomore year, we stopped talking. Different schools, different lives. But I never forgot the resentment. All those microaggressions. All those moments where he made me feel small.

The Revelation

I live in a small town. My cousin happened to marry his uncle. So one day in February, his uncle was over at my house and casually mentioned that my old "friend's" mom had cancer. He thought we were still close and suggested I check in on him.

I didn't. I didn't reach out. I just sat with the information.

I suspected his mom was sick anyway; I'd seen her recently and noticed she'd lost a lot of weight. But hearing it confirmed didn't make me feel sympathetic. It made me feel something else. Something uglier.

The Post

Months passed. In May, I ran into him again. He was still his usual self dismissive, cold, the same guy who'd made me feel like garbage for years. And something in me snapped.

I posted a few lines on my Instagram story. I mocked how a certain someone's mom had cancer. I joked about her hair falling out. I said it was "loserish" to have cancer.

It was cruel. It was petty. It was wrong. But in the moment, it felt like justice.

The Fallout

A friend called him. He asked if we were talking about his mom. My friend was confused. I brushed it off as vagueposting. But I think he knew.

The next day, he was at my house with our other friends. He glared at me. Scoffed. Before that, he wouldn't even look at me. I'm pretty sure he put it together.

After that, I started texting in our group chat about how I had cancer, how someone had cancer here, vague, weird, passive-aggressive. I don't even know what I was trying to do.

What I Think About It

Here's the thing: I know what I did was wrong. Making fun of someone's sick mom is objectively cruel. There's no way around that.

But I also know why I did it. I did it because I was hurt. I did it because I spent years being treated like I didn't matter, and I never got to say anything. I did it because I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt me.

That doesn't make it right. It just makes it human.

Do I Regret It?

I said I don't regret it. And I don't. Not really. I regret that I stooped to that level. I regret that I let years of resentment turn me into someone who would mock a cancer patient. But I don't regret standing up for myself even if I did it in the ugliest way possible.

What I Should Have Done

I should have just cut him off years ago. I should have let go of the resentment. I should have been the bigger person. Instead, I held onto it and used it as ammunition when I saw a weakness.

That's not who I want to be.

I'm not proud of what I did. But I'm also not going to pretend I feel bad for hurting someone who spent years hurting me. Maybe that makes me a bad person. Maybe it just makes me human.

Either way, I'm not looking for forgiveness. I'm just being honest.