I just watched an episode called “Everyone is a photographer”, a documentary series that deals with different views and aspects of life through photography.
This episode dealt with personal and painful memories of childhood.
That made me think. It made me think about my school years.
I was bullied all through school
And no, this won’t be a sob-post about how hard my life was but more a recollection of how it was and how I feel about all of it now.
I was called fat, ugly, stupid and I was afraid everyday of going home because I knew that I would be stopped on the way. I’d be threatened, abused and called names. My bike would be kicked at and I walked it home more than once after you guys let the air out of my tires. 
Andreas, Marko, Dan, Niklas, Anki, Therese, Christer, Gustaf and the rest of you had a field day with me wearing a helmet when riding my bike. I guess it’s the feeling of being left out and called names that hurt the most. Being hit is a LOT easier to handle than being stared at and told to go elsewhere when I asked if I could join in and play with the group. I finally stood my ground when I was around 14 and hit back. Things got a bit easier after that. You all left me more to myself which was a huge relief.
The only company I felt like myself in was when I hung out with Patrik or the teachers.
I still miss my visits to Patriks house. His dad worked at the largest ice cream producer and we always had a treat at the kitchen table when we got home from school. He made me listen to the rock group KISS and actually laughed at my jokes. He was kind in a very gentle and genuine way. I like to call him my first love. So thank you Patrik for being ..well you…for me during all those years.
I am well aware, as the adult I am today, that all of you bullies had burdens to carry yourselves.
No kid is born mean or evil in any way shape or form. They are just taught by, if not their parents, the society around them that it is socially acceptable to be mean to other kids. Boundaries weren’t set and there were very few adults around with enough backbone to make them stop. So thank you to those who were there for me; Albin, Eva, Björn, Inger, Ann-Britt and Margareta. I´m sure I am forgetting names. But you know who you are. THANK you.
My goal as a parent is to never ever be the kind of parent that many of my bullies had.
I hope to be receptive, humble and hands-on if any of my children start behaving even remotely like my bullies did. I promise to be one ass-kicking relentless never stopping momma bear if any of my children finds themselves in my shoes when they start school.
Only one of you have actually apologised to me in person for what you put me through.
You took the time to call me and say the words; I´m sorry.
That took guts and I know that scared the shit out of you. Thank you Marko.
So why am I writing this?
I guess I want to let go of hard memories that only I carry around.
Who will I be without the memories of my bullied year in school?
I realise, as I write this, that I have long since forgiven all of you.
Now that feels f-ing awesome.
Make a difference, listen to the kid that all the other kids find annoying.
They have a story to tell.
I have coffee to drink in the sun.
Until later dear friends, until later.