𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕤 ℂ𝕝𝕦𝕓 ☁︎☀

Friends Friday~ Terry

Friends. That word was probably the first thing that sent me into depression.

I remember it distinctly--I was the most outgoing person you could ever find. I'd walk up to another kid and ask if they wanted to play tag with me. I'd smile and grin like there wasn't a thing called darkness.

I was happy. I was able to make friends.

I know right? It's impossible!

But, due to the school's curriculum, my mom made me change schools. I lost all my precious friends, the people that kept my day joyful.

I went to this new Public-Catholic school in grade 2. I made quite a group of friends with my friendly and chatty attitude.

Aannnddddd then, that's when the problem started. My best friend Annalisa moved from Ontario to the other side of Canada.

Again, I had lost another person who was precious. I cried every day, not understanding why Annalisa had to leave me.

Yeah, I had my group of friends...but I realized that they weren't friends with me for me. They were friends with me because I was really close to Annalisa.

There was one person who stuck by my side--Nour.

When she broke her arm, I was happy to comply to her request of staying in the office with her every recess, playing board games and the such. She was the only one I had.

She taught me lots of songs that I never knew of, since my mom sealed me from all social media.

Now that I think of it, that is the main reason for my social awkwardness. I could never know or understand how to act around future classmates, or why they suddenly started sneezing a lot and nobody said Bless You.

Anyways, back to the story.

Once Nour's arm had healed, we went back to our normal play---hand games, songs, and gymnastics.

Then she taught me this song. I sang it to my mom once, but she responded with something I didn't expect.

''The song is racist,'' She said. ''You cannot be friends with this Nour.''

I was heartbroken. How long did my mom want to isolate me from others? First, my actions were apparantly 'behind the times' and 'uncool'. Second, she's pulling me away from all my friends.

I continued being friends with Nour in secret, but I did request for her to stop spreading the racist song. From my memory, it was a polite request.

One day on the bus, during the olympics, I caught Nour teaching that song to a little kid about two years younger than us.

I quietly asked her to stop, but she ignored me.

Everything went downhill after that.

The following day, when I called Nour to sit beside me on the bus, she sat in front of me.

At this age, I didn't understand the complicated world of sly and cunning girl fights.

For those who don't understand, when she sat in front of me, it meant, ''I'm above you. Once I get rolling (the bus moving) you can't move ahead of me (you can't get up and walk around when a bus is moving)."

When the bus driver wasn't looking, she started writing something onto the foggy window with her finger.

''Boo China!" She wrote, waiting until I saw it. ''F*** those small-eyed people!"

I was confused. As far as I knew, Nour was always supportive of me, and I supported her in return.

Once she knew I had read her degrading comment, she wiped it off and wrote ''Go Canada!"

Then she turned around to face me and said, ''Your team is going to lose.''

''I'm Canadian too!" I protested.

No use. She ganged up with her other friends and started throwing racist and hurtful remarks to me, which soon spread throughout my grade.

By the time she moved away in grade 3, I was already mentally wrecked. Everyone used to adore me for my perfect grades. Everyone adored me for my athletic abilities.

But I realized, they were all using me. Using my analytical intelligence to complete their homework. Using my athleticism to dash ahead of their rivals.

Even Nour, using me to keep her company, then throwing me away once her office-bound sentence was done.

I was never a fighter. I cried, asking my mom why everyone hated me.

I refused to have any friends for a while. I almost cried everyday as I watched other kids playing happily with each other, accepting their differences in grades and athletic talent.

Why couldn't they accept me? I didn't get it.

I still can't understand them.

But I'm not telling my story to make all of you pity and cry for me.

Instead of moping around and trying to rejoin their fake friendships, I gave them what they wanted. I continued getting straight A's for years. I continued doing sports. I continued fuelling their hate for me.

Why? Well, it wouldn't have mattered what I did anyways, might as well continue what I was doing.

I was determined not to let them push me to the bottom. I did not want them to beat me. I had a strong resolve not to let them surpass me and give them a different reason to mock me.

Yes, it was hard under all those hateful glares during tests in class, all those ignoring attitudes, but I managed to stay at the top.

I did not want to cry anymore. I was sick and tired of just crying. I wanted to do something.

I became a fighter.

Not physically, but mentally. I could fight the negative comments coming from them. I had gotten used to them mocking me. I wasn't muting their voices, I was accepting their insults and they drove me to run ahead of them.

I was so proud of myself. I can do it. I can stay strong without following the trends, without understanding whatever strange things they did, without having fake companions.

My suffering made me stronger.

Think of bullies like a spring. If they push you down, spring higher than them faster than they ever could. At first, you'll hit rock bottom, but don't give up! Don't stay flattened like a pancake. Use their pressure against them, show them what you're really made of.

You can do it.

💖Terralyn💖

On another note, don't be shy! Have fun posting and chatting with us all you like :D