Dear 12-year-old me,
Life is pretty confusing for you now, isn’t it? I would know, because I lived though it. Hell, I mean, I am you. I know.
But I am here to tell you that you will be okay. It will be okay.
Right now, living feels miserable. You are being bullied by a teacher in school. A teacher, a figure of authority who is supposed to be supporting you as you make your way through life. She constantly puts you down in class, and she makes it a habit to pull you out from the classroom to berate you.
How could you be so lazy/inattentive/stupid, she would say. Especially you, with those family circumstances, you are really disappointing.
But what is your crime? You wonder. What did you do to deserve these harsh words? Maybe you are really that stupid or lazy or useless.
And so this continues, day after day, for a year. Or is it two? I don’t know, to be honest I have tried my hardest to wipe this out from my memory but it cannot be scrubbed clean.
The constant gaslighting – yes, we have a word to describe this type of abhorrent behaviour now – erodes your confidence and the last vestiges of your childhood. For that year, you live in fear and anxiety. You hide in the library when you can – the cool, dark, quiet environment a sanctuary for you. You seek refuge among books because fiction takes you out of this dreadful world and into universes where there is snow falling gently on your eyelashes, tea to be had in delicate china, where there are tears but growth and love as well. Where the teacher-in-charge was your saviour.
Once outside of the library, however, you are lost. You hide under a cover of chattiness, of loud laughter to mask your confusion and misery. You tried telling your mother but she dismissed you with one damning sentence: Why would a teacher do that?
Why, indeed.
And then one day, you will stand at the window of the bedroom in your three-room flat. You will stare at the ground outside of the window and you will wonder how it would be like if you were to open the grilles and throw yourself down.
This time, a complete stranger saved you. Or maybe it was a figment of your imagination, a sliver of self-preservation that manifested in real life? I don’t know, but you saw someone standing at the opposite block gesturing to you to come down from the window. You stared at her for a moment and then jumped down to the safety of the floor.
I am here to tell you that it does end. You will do relatively well in your exams and move on from the school, and you will never see her again.
Unfortunately, the damage is done. Between the gaslighting and the fact that you will never feel like there is an adult whom you can rely on, you will be scarred and it will have an impact on who you are and what you do. You will always feel lonely even if you are in a crowd. You will always have difficulties making and keeping friends. You will always feel out of place, and different from everybody else.
That is the truth.
But there is another part of the truth, which is that you are really strong and resilient. What doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger? Absolutely.
You will live through all of this – the complexities of life, the confusion, the anxiety, the loneliness – and you will have done it on your own. You parented yourself when no adult was there to guide you.
So take heart, the me that is on the cusp of transition. Be comforted that you are strong and you will find your way out of the messiness. It may take time but eventually, you will be at peace.
And remember, it is not your fault. You did nothing wrong, it was the adults who failed you. You were a child and nobody did anything to help you so this is on them, not you.
It was never your fault.
Continue living for yourself. Continue doing your best and charting your own way in life. Continue reflecting and growing, aiming to be the best version of yourself. And you will find yourself some thirty years later, looking back at the 12-year-old version of yourself and feeling extremely proud and gratified.
You made it. We made it.
Love,
43-year-old me