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People at a reunion party. | Source: Flickr/Elmira College (CC BY 2.0)
People at a reunion party. | Source: Flickr/Elmira College (CC BY 2.0)

My Classmates Were Mean to Me, I Went to a Class Reunion to Get Back at Them – My Story

Roshanak Hannani
Dec 11, 2022
02:15 P.M.

I was severely bullied through high school, but my husband persuaded me to attend the reunion, saying it would be the best revenge. He was right in the most surprising way, but then, I had to make a decision.

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"It's going to be the best night of your life, darling. You are the most beautiful, amazing, successful woman in this town by far," my husband, Gage, encouraged me, placing his hands on my shoulders as if he was a football coach giving a pep talk.

I nodded, although the nerves in my stomach begged me to go back to our room and hide under the covers. We were going to my high school reunion, which would usually be exciting, right? Well, not for me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I was bullied like crazy during my teenage years, and it never stopped. During my freshman year, I was chubby and had braces. Not the best combination. The popular girls mocked me, and I envied their skinny physiques and perfect smiles. My mother often told me I would be one of them soon enough. Ugh… no, thanks. I just wanted them to leave me alone.

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She clearly felt insecure about the thought of me wearing expensive things.

My sophomore year started better, as I had lost a ton of weight and only wore retainers for a couple of hours a day. But suddenly, my face broke out with acne, and the Queen Bee of our class, Anya, decided that she hated me now more than ever.

"Ewww! Look at her pimples! Do you even wash your face?" she asked at least once a week when everyone was around. She did it around the boys, too, so soon enough, they joined in on the bullying.

When one guy, Markson, asked me to the winter formal that year, I was ecstatic. But it turned out to be a prank set up by Anya. Yes, such a cliché. But it still hurt like crazy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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Junior year was still bad, but I was so focused on my grades that I tried to ignore everything. Senior year, I mostly kept to myself and never participated in the typical things seniors did. I lost out on it because the people in my grade seemed to hate me.

I didn't have friends, and I often ate lunch with my guidance counselor, Mrs. Franklin, who was the only nice person at my school. Of course, they mocked me for that, too.

However, college was outstanding. Despite my awkwardness in social situations, I immediately made a great group of friends. We studied together, helped each other out, and had fun in our own ways with game nights, small gatherings, and intellectual discussions. I never knew life would be so sweet until I met Gage.

He was like a mirror of me, except with a few differences that made everything enjoyable. I never imagined he would like me back, but he did. We graduated, got jobs, moved in together, and got married. We still saw our friends for game nights and PPT parties, which were fantastic.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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It's true what they say; you just have to get through high school, and everything does get better.

However, the scars of my childhood still run deep, and I was not planning on going to the reunion. But Gage convinced me otherwise. He said it would be the perfect moment to get back at them because I had my own business, earned over six figures, and was married and happier than ever.

So, I got dolled up, and Gage pushed me out the door.

***

Everything started fine at the reunion. I greeted some people, hugged Mrs. Franklin fiercely, and drank a little bit. A few shy kids who didn't have a lot of friends came to chitchat for a while, which was nice.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

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However, Anya found me. She was rocking the fakest smile in the world as she reminisced about "the good old times." I read somewhere that bullies don't remember all the harm they have done to others. Clearly, she didn't, or she was delusional.

"Are those real Prada shoes? Or like a knockoff? Probably a knockoff, right?" she asked, half-smiling, half-scowling.

"They're real," I replied, suddenly emboldened by her expression. I would never judge anyone on their clothes or money, but she clearly felt insecure about the thought of me wearing expensive things.

Markson and a few of her other friends joined in and tried to get my husband to laugh about the antics they got to in high school and how geeky I was.

However, Mrs. Franklin interrupted the event and asked a few people to talk on stage about their lives and what they remembered from high school. After a while, she called my name, and my nervousness – which should've risen at that point – was gone. Completely.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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I went up there and talked about my life. My Suma cum Laude degree. My business. My wedding. My husband's success. As I was finishing, I saw Anya's table, and she was unhappy. I know it was petty to feel a little cheery about that. But whatever. I deserved a win.

When I finished, I received claps from everyone, and Mrs. Franklin whispered how proud she was of me. I left the stage and sat with my husband to hear other people's stories. Anya didn't have much to say. She focused on her high school memories.

When everyone had their turn, I stood up to get glasses of wine, but former classmates surrounded me. They wanted to talk about my business, what I was doing, and what I expected from that industry in the future, and Markson asked if I had any job openings.

I was the center of attention, even with Anya's friends, for the first time ever.

And she… was standing to the side gloomily. This was my revenge.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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Some people asked me to catch up later, go shopping, or do anything I wanted. But I wasn't exactly keen on making friends with my high school tormentors. They had nothing nice to say to me in high school.

Should I forgive them? Should I be the bigger person? Would you trust them?

Tell us what you think, and share this story with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who several families rejected because of her birth mother.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.

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