Dear (Former) Queen Bee,

home insemination Kit

I’m adding “former” in good faith, hoping that time has softened your edges.

Anyone who grew up in our small town could easily answer the question, “Who was the meanest kid in your class?” You were the reigning queen of mean from elementary through high school, and occasionally even in college. Thankfully, I wasn’t your only target—I can’t imagine surviving it if I was. I saw so many classmates become your victims, enduring your cruelty for far too long.

Your brand of meanness was astonishingly advanced for your age. You had a knack for pulling girls into your inner circle only to cast them aside just as quickly, making them yearn for your approval, which you would grant momentarily before flipping the script. Your harsh words left scars on girls who should have been carefree, not worrying about their self-worth. Need a little reminder?

You once trailed a neighborhood girl off the bus, belting out “Baby Beluga” like there was no tomorrow. You cruelly called a ten-year-old “pizza face” as she began a challenging battle with acne. You even spread a false rumor to the entire fourth grade that two girls were kissing when they were just dancing around.

I doubt you understand the extent of the pain you caused. I managed to dodge your wrath in middle school, but you made life a special kind of hell for kids who were already struggling. You targeted those who were different, like the girl with short hair or the boy who still had some baby fat.

Then came high school. I found myself on your radar when I dated your friend’s ex. The harassment was relentless: nasty comments in the hallways, eggs on my car, and a flood of hateful messages. Ironically, you were far crueler than the ex-girlfriend who felt wronged; I think you just needed a target.

Even in college, I received the occasional harassing message from strangers, only to discover they were linked to your friend list. I wish I could say I never think about you, but with social media and hometown chatter, your name pops up now and then. Everyone has a tale of your cruelty, and those painful memories remain fresh.

Most recently, I heard you got married and had a baby. My first thought? “I hope you teach that child to be kind.” Because, you see, I’m a mom now, too. And I’ve come to realize that kids aren’t born mean—they’re taught or they lash out due to something missing in their own lives.

I can’t help but wonder what drove you to be so unkind. Did you lack love, acceptance, or attention? In some ways, I feel for you. But I also worry for my child, who will inevitably encounter someone like you someday.

So, from one mom to another, let’s break the cycle. Preserve all that goodness and innocence in your child. Raise them to be compassionate, and I promise to do the same.

If you’re curious about ways to approach parenting or even topics like home insemination, check out this post or visit Make a Mom for some great insights. You can also explore News Medical for excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination.

In summary, let’s strive to foster kindness in our children and learn from the past.