Day 12 – the one you hate the most/someone who caused you a lot of pain
Up until last month, I had no idea what To Write Love On Her Arms was. But now I know that it’s one of the most important awareness organizations out there. That love needs to be written across the world all over our souls and deep in our hearts. We need to scribble love on chalkboards, graffiti it on the walls in subway stations. I encourage you to etch love into the bathroom stall walls with your pen or paper clip until the words are too deep to be removed.
Dear (insert names here),
This letter is to anyone who ever laughed at me for being the person I am (and always will be). This is for the girls who sent me home, begging my parents not to make me go back to school the next day. For the girls who mocked me publicly on social networking sites and privately in notes to their friends during homeroom. A note isn’t private if your so-called best friend finds it and reads it to you.
For the girls who joked about wanting to punch me in the face. For the girls who ever joked about hurting someone else ever. This is for you to read.
I don’t want to hate anyone, and luckily there isn’t anyone in my life who I can honestly say I hate.
There are quite a few people who have shaken me up and made me question who I am, and for that, I am sorry. I’m sorry I let you have that affect on me, because what I know now is that I want to be that girl you laughed at.
To all you girls who have been picked on and walked all over, I want you to remember that there’s nothing wrong with you. That your version of the world is no less important and wonderful than the person throwing you on the ground.
But for anyone who’s done these things, there’s something you need to understand. You are doing a terrible disservice in putting down someone else, but an even worse disservice to yourself. In forgetting that someone could just as easily do the same to you. And in forgetting how harmful those words, those empty threats, become when someone else, on the receiving end, takes them seriously. Because when they do, you have to live with the guilt of that. Knowing that your words may have been a factor.
Each time someone puts you down you question everything you thought you knew. Maybe it’s something little, like whether or not your skirt and shirt match that day. Or maybe it’s something big, something that leads those girls headed for bigger problems: Am I beautiful? Thin? Smart? Worthwhile?
Is my life important in the grand scheme of things?
These are the questions you force upon girls you barely know, simply by putting them down. And maybe they brush it off, bouncing back resiliently. Or maybe they don’t. Maybe those comments stack up and form a wall between them and everyone else. A wall that’s not so easy to take down. A wall that leads to bigger problems.
Maybe, if we focused less on cutting others down a rung on the ladder and instead shared our love with them, the world would be better.
Maybe I would be a completely different person. But then again, I can’t know for sure. I can’t know if I’d still feel this urge to share with the world, to set the bar high for respect. Somewhere deep inside me, your knocking me down gave me the extra push to stand back up and use my voice.
For that, in some twisted way, I thank you.
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