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An Open Letter To My Persecutor

This is a very personal letter I wrote to the girl who persecuted me all throughout middle school. I encourage everyone to read this and pass it on. I know I’m not the only one who deals/dealt with this! – Maddy Agers

I still remember what you did to me. I have dreams where I am standing in the cafeteria, proudly wearing the green and gray striped jacket given to me by my dad. It has this “Jesus Freak” patch on one of the sleeves. That’s my favorite thing about it. Every time I put that jacket on, I remember the way you looked at me. I still feel the coldness in your eyes radiating through my spine. I see you leaning over and whispering an evil command to a fellow student. Then I remember walking shamefully out of the room, trying to understand what would possess you to wish that pain on me. I see myself taking off the soaking jacket, as tears soaked my face. The way the stickiness of that chocolate milk felt as I wiped my hair with a paper towel in the bathroom.
I also feel the embarrassment of being bullied online by you. As if it wasn’t enough to ridicule me in front of my peers. Can you imagine that? Just put yourself in my shoes. I was in 6th grade, when I really paid attention to what people thought of me. I spent seven hours with you everyday. You followed me everywhere. Imagine the surprise when I came home to find you still following me. This time, on a small screen. You eavesdropped on me with the help of your friends, and twisted my words to make me look ridiculous. It wasn’t just one time, in case it slipped your mind. It was 3 years of agony every time I walked off that bus. You told my friends you were going to commit suicide in my name. In my name! What? You posted online that you wanted to kill me.
When I attempted to bring these things to the attention of staff, they undermined me. All those trips to the counselor’s office just so she could turn those many visits into office gossip. She said I was safe in her office. I might have physically been safe there, but my words weren’t. I don’t know if you knew this, but I was famous among some adults and teachers for being the little girl who “just couldn’t handle myself”. “Toughen up, fight back”, they said. But they didn’t know something — I was tough. I was tough enough not to fight back. I cared enough about you to not destroy your reputation, just because you destroyed mine.
You probably think I hate you. But you only knew half of the story. So, let me set the record straight. I didn’t know you. You didn’t know me. We never saw the beautiful flaws in each other, never sat down and talked about our hopes and dreams. I didn’t think anything of your behavior at first. Then, it got worse. You lied to my friends. You said I secretly hated them. I loved all of my friends, and I would never say those awful things! Despite the wrongs you did to me, I just couldn’t be hurtful back to you. Every time you did those things, I prayed for you — quietly. I prayed that you would feel secure in yourself, that the God-shaped hole in you would be filled with Him. Not gonna lie, I felt like hurting you back sometimes. I resisted, though. You matter. You’re breathing!
And I still pray for you! Every time you come to mind. After the past couple years, you probably haven’t given me a second thought.. or maybe you have. Did you ever feel sorry for me? Do you ever regret those things you did?
Maybe someday we’ll cross paths again. I’d like that. I would like to hug you and tell you that you are worth so much, despite what others have done to you. But for now I’ll just be here, praying for you to feel the same love I did. There is someone who thinks of you enough to die for you. All you have to do is say yes.

About Maddy Agers (211 Articles)
Editor and founder of The Digital Breakdown. Coffee and tea drinker. Enjoys reading, writing, and music blaring.

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