Stronger Than Him

It did not stop at words. They actually beat me up. And the worst part? It was not random, it was because I was good. Because I had leadership. Because I had humanity. Because I was better than him. Being a thriving girl was enough of a reason for him to tear me down.

He hated me. He could not handle the fact that I could speak and people would listen, that I could lead confidently without needing to scare anyone, that I had many talents. He was afraid I would make him appear as less, although that had never ever been my intention. And instead of admitting that, he decided it was because I am a girl. Because that was easier than admitting I was simply stronger than him.

He and his friends, they called me names, pushed me around, and when words were not enough, they reminded me that even my space was not mine to keep. I had to make trips to the hospital a couple of times. It hurt, not just my body, but something deeper. He made me feel like my existence was something to mock, and made me feel weak. And he made sure I never forgot it. He made sure I knew my place, or at least the place he thought I belonged in.

Dancing used to feel like freedom, but even that started to feel stained, because every time I moved, I wondered if someone was waiting to laugh or hurt me again.

What cut deepest wasn’t just his anger or the bruises. It was the silence. Teachers who looked away. Friends who chose not to see. And in that silence, it started to feel like maybe I deserved it.

For a long time, I believed that. And sometimes, I still do.

People like to say it gets better, but I don’t know if I believe them. I still feel small and alone sometimes, just like how I felt when I used to hide in the bathroom stalls to avoid my bullies and shut out the rest of the world, while panic and anxiety suffocated me. I still feel angry. And tired. And sad in ways I'm not sure how to explain. I still carry what they did. He did not just get to be a memory, he is a scar I never asked for.

I hope one day that I will be stronger than him in my mind, stronger than the hurt, and stronger than the fear. That I will find the person I was before all of this, the girl who danced without worry, who cared without fear, who was brave without knowing it, the girl who was not dead inside.

Maybe that day will come. Maybe it won’t. But even just holding onto that thought is something for now.

To anyone else who has been pushed down because you dared to be good, because you dared to lead, because you dared to exist and take up space, it is never your fault. You do not have to become smaller to survive, just like I did.

Even if they hate you for shining, keep shining anyway.

Of course, easier said than done.