An Open Letter to the Person Who Ruined My Life

So, it’s been a while.

I’m not even sure if you even remember me, or what you even said, since it all happened about seven years ago. But then again, people never remember scalding remarks they make to others.

Words hurt, you know?

I don’t know what you are like now, or who you even are anymore, but I get the vibe that you are now the type of person that would be disgusted by the way you replied to me when I called you out. You seem to have grown into a keyboard SJW that no one likes, and you would be the first person to be all up in arms about someone misgendering another person, even if it is an “off-handed comment.”

Or, maybe, this is all just my wishful thinking of hoping you have become a better person after all these years.

I don’t really know what I want from you now – it’s definitely not an apology – but I do want you to know this: what you said to me affected me deeply, and I have still not recovered from it after seven years. You made me develop social anxiety. You stopped me from being able to speak in public ever again.

And no, you’re right, it’s not your fault I’m insecure. But you should know that you told that to a kid who recently figured out who he really is – in fact, you should know that you shouldn’t rebut someone telling you that you hurt them with, “It’s not my fault you’re insecure.” It’s not how it works.

“When a person tells you that you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t.”

Louis C.K.

What you said ruined my life. I want you to acknowledge that and then stew in your guilt. But then, I also know that you probably don’t even remember what you said and who I am. On one hand, I want karma to get you back. I want karma to ruin your life like you ruined mine. On the other, I want to leave everything behind me and pretend you never said anything in the first place.

I wrote something about moving on a while back, and while I said moving on is ultimately for yourself, I also said that it’s okay to acknowledge that it is part of my life. I hate what you said to me and I hate that you even decided to say it in the first place, but there’s no changing the past and even if you did sincerely apologize, it doesn’t change the fact that you said it.

So, I’m not going to forgive you, and I’m not going to forget what you said. You changed who I am and after seven years, I still don’t know if it’s for the better or the worst. It definitely made me less confident in myself and it made me less willing to speak up whenever something is bothering me, so I guess it’s up to you to decide.

I hope every video you watch will take five minutes to buffer and stops every two seconds, and that you can never seem to get a stable WiFi connection anywhere. I hope that you will always be dragged into senseless and meaningless Internet arguments and have them flood your notifications. I hope that you will always, somehow, step on a wet patch on the ground when you are just wearing socks.

Oh, and pardon me, those were just passing comments. I’m sorry if you got offended. It’s not my fault you’re insecure.

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