On Being the Punchline

Illustration by studio4rt on Freepik

I never really understood bullying until it happened to me. If my posts here often feel heavy or bleak, now you know why. Now that I’ve graduated and left those halls behind, it finally feels safe to speak my truth.

My first year at university was peaceful. No drama, no enemies. I just existed. But everything changed in my second year. I had to retake classes and found myself a sophomore among freshmen who saw my struggle as a joke. To them, I was just the "stupid senior" who couldn't keep up. That was the beginning of it.

Then, they started on my name. A name my parents gave me with love, borrowed from a sacred place, reduced to a joke for their entertainment. Every time I stepped into the classroom, the juniors laughed.

The real betrayal followed me home, onto my screen. My so-called friend joined those juniors in mocking me on social media, turning my struggles into amusement. Did it ever cross their minds that while they laughed, I was fighting every single day just to survive? What feels like a simple walk to them was a mountain I was already bleeding on. I had to climb it alone. And no one noticed, just because survival doesn’t always look like collapse.

One or two friends truly stood by me. The rest chose distance. They called it a “small issue” and urged me to make peace. Not out of malice, but because comfort was easier than confrontation. I learned to pull away. I chose quiet over being misunderstood. Perhaps, they began to see me through the same lens as the ones who bullied me. As if I were already a failure. I wasn’t pushed away; I simply learned that I no longer belonged.

Maybe it seemed trivial to them. Just jokes. But for me, the impact was seismic. I spent years dissecting myself: Am I really this stupid? Is my identity truly that comical? I fell into a depression, haunted by their laughter while they paraded their "achievements" and hollow accolades. Bitterly ironic how a prestigious university didn’t guarantee any of them basic human decency.

The mockery was one thing. The stolen time was another. While I was struggling to stay afloat, they were building their futures. I was left behind, picking up the pieces of myself from a war I never asked for.

I’ve made peace with them now, acting as if nothing happened. It seems the performance of normalcy is enough for them. I have forgiven them, truly. But I’ll leave the rest to the One who knows everything. Some debts are just not for me to clear.