“Why?”

I stared at the one-word response to my friend request. New to social media, I thought I’d violated some unwritten etiquette, so I left it alone. The next day I got a longer message. 

“Why would you want me as a friend on Facebook? Do you even remember me? Do you remember interacting with me in High School? If your memory has failed, I can help you recall. I have certainly not forgotten.”

I didn’t remember him well. He was two years younger. We hadn’t spent much time together, but we now shared many Facebook friends. I inched toward the keyboard. I admitted my memories were limited and offered an apology for whatever I’d done 40 years earlier.

He told me how I’d injured him emotionally and physically, and how those injuries had impacted his life. Then he generously and graciously wrote, “I hated you so bad. I needed to let this out, and let it go. Now, we can be friends.”

I wept as a read his biting descriptions of my behaviors. I was so ashamed and disappointed with myself. I’d been bullied and I’d hated it. Now I was forced to acknowledge I’d turned around and bullied others. I’d descended into the malevolence I’d despised. 

I told him of my embarrassment and shame, and I extended another more specific and heartfelt apology. “I forgive you,” he wrote back. “Thank you for letting me release that and let it all go . . . Thank you for your apology . . . You have made me feel much better.” I was so grateful for his kindness and compassion.

I was broken in school. I didn’t know it, but I was. I was the new kid. Then, when I was eleven, my oldest brother died in a farm accident. My next brother, a year ahead of me in school, was popular, good looking and athletic. Everyone liked him, especially the girls. I tried so desperately to fit in, to find the right crowd, to be popular. I drank, smoked, rodeoed, and tried to be tough. It was all an overcompensation for feeling inadequate and afraid. It’s not an excuse, but now I see what I couldn’t see it then. 

Hurt people hurt people. Compassion heals bullies. When you can, choose compassion.

p.s. This was a hard message to write and own. I hope it helps others heal.