When it comes to scars, I no longer have any visible, external scars. I have never cut myself, and therefore do not have any scars of that kind. The scars that I have are internal, but that doesn't make them mean any less than external ones. 
When people say hurtful things to me, I try to act tough and make it seem as though I don't really care about what they say. I wish that were true, but it isn't. The truth is that every bad thing anyone has ever said to me, has felt like being stabbed. 
The latest, big scar that I got was last year when an incident happened in my class. Me and my friend found out that some of the guys in our class had a groupchat where they had been talking about us. The things that they had said made me feel uncomfortable, but if it would've been just about me I probably wouldn't have done anything about it. It was the fact that they had said stuff about my friend as well, and I couldn't let them get away with that. Fortunately for us, one of the guys had not felt comfortable with what they were saying about us either and had showed us the groupchat and even agreed to sending some screenshots to me so I could show a teacher. That's what I did, but it turned out that the situation was more serious than I thought it was. The issue was brought up to the police, who informed us that what they boys were doing classed as defamation, cyberbullying and sexual harrassment. As if the stab of them saying these things wasn't enough, it felt even worse when we understood how serious the situation was. 
Since it was the first time they had done something like this (or at least the first time it was brought to the teacher's attention), it was agreed that they would be let off with a warning from the police and a promise that they would stay away from us. If it were to happen again, the police informed us that they would risk being arrested for what they had done. I felt so sad, not only because of the hurtful things they had said, but also because I lost people who I thought were my friends through this. 
Even to this day, some of the boys don't understand what they did wrong. Everytime they talk about it and tell me that I'm being "too sensitive" for the way that I acted, it's another stab. If they would only understand the way that these things affected me, my scars might be able to heal. But until then, the wounds will only be reopened every time I hear them say the same things over and over again. That's the scar that I wanted to share today.
Be kind and love yourself. See you next post.


Not published