I was bullied during secondary education. My mother used to tell me myths: Things will get better. Children grow up and mature. One day you’ll look back at all of this and laugh. Bullying is just anger about that person’s circumstance.

My mother wasn’t always right:

• Bully-ism is prevalent in all stages of life: The workplace (power-hungry boss), friendships (the daunting homegirl), family, etc.
• I never did look back and laugh. In fact, I used my experience to warn my students that hate will accomplish nothing.
• Those children did grow up, but rarely matured.

However, she was accurate about one thing. That anger of circumstance is evolutionary. If it isn’t tackled and diminished, it grows with you.

I found myself teaching back in my hometown after college and caught glances of the girls who’d once deemed me a loser: Some were on their third child and unwed, some were searching for Mr. Right and always dating Mr. All Wrong, others were fighting demons in rehab or other institutions. Some of them had genuinely changed; others were still stuck in their ways.

They still possessed the high and mighty looks on their faces. It was as if none of the years had passed, nothing had changed and they were still as prevalent as ever. Their false confidence and faux ability to look down on other women was their sustainability. It kept them alive through the storm and through the pain they were going through that they wouldn’t divulge.

I recognized this within the girl that disrespected me on Twitter. She was angry about her circumstance; so livid that she took to a social network to rant about something that took place over half a decade ago. It was within those few tweets that she was able to take back some of the authority she felt she’d lost back then.

Is that all she needed? She could have it.

I closed my computer, relieved that I hadn’t taken my original route. I turned off the lights in my office littered with literary accomplishments, uncluttered the kitchen of evidence of a meal for two, got back into bed, and pulled my side of the sheets from the man that loves me with everything inside of him.

At 12, I was convinced that one day all of my accolades would defeat the girls who deemed me unworthy of respect. I was wrong. It wasn’t until the age of 24 that I understood that strength and respect are internal. There is nothing external about the comprehension of your identity and significance. There is no defeat in looking down on those who are perturbed by your progress.

Power is fathoming that although we get older, we don’t all necessarily become wiser. Power is within understanding that your enemies suffer turmoil larger than your own. Power lies in the ability to whisper while they belt loud enough for the world to hear.

Bask in your solidity.

Firmly.

“RivaFlowz” is a teacher and professional writer living in New York City. You can follow her on Twitter: @rivaflowz.

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