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Dear (Former) Queen Bee,
I’m calling you “former” with hope, believing time has softened your heart. If you grew up in our little town, you’d know exactly who I’m referring to when someone asks, “Who was the meanest kid in your class?” You held that title from elementary through high school, and even made waves in college. Thankfully, I wasn’t your only target—many others felt your sting, too.
Your brand of meanness was surprising for someone your age. You had a knack for drawing girls into your circle and then discarding them just as quickly. Your approval felt like a prize that came with a hefty price, leaving many of us longing for your acceptance, even if it was fleeting. Your harsh words impacted so many girls who should have been carefree, not worrying about their self-worth. Need a refresher?
Do you remember singing “Baby Beluga” loudly behind a neighborhood girl as you got off the bus? Or calling a 10-year-old “pizza face” while she dealt with acne? You even spread lies about two girls in fourth grade, claiming you saw them kissing when they were just having fun dancing.
I’m not sure you realized the long-lasting effects of your actions. I managed to steer clear of you in middle school, but you made life miserable for those already facing challenges. You picked on kids who were different—the girl who cut her hair short, or the boy who hadn’t lost his baby fat yet.
High school brought your attention back to me when I dated one of your ex’s. The harassment was relentless: nasty comments in the hallways, egging my car, and cruel messages on my phone. Ironically, you were harsher than the girl I was dating, perhaps just happy to have someone to target.
Even in college, I received the occasional nasty Facebook message from someone connected to you. I always found out they were from your school and on your friends list. I wish I could say I’ve forgotten about you, but between social media and hometown chatter, your name still pops up. Everyone seems to have a tale about your cruelty, memories that have stuck with them over the years.
Recently, I heard you’re married and have a baby. My first thought was, “I hope you teach your child to be kind.” Because guess what? I’m a mom now, too. I’ve learned that kids aren’t born mean. They learn it or become cruel due to their own unmet needs.
I often wonder what made you act so unkindly. Did you lack love, acceptance, or attention? It makes my heart ache a bit for you. But my heart aches even more for my child, who will someday encounter someone like you.
So, from one mom to another, let’s break the cycle. Raise your child to be kind and I promise to do the same. It’s all about nurturing the goodness in them, so they can navigate the world with compassion.
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In summary, let’s choose kindness for our kids to ensure they grow up in a nurturing environment, free from the shadows of past cruelty.