To the Lady in the Blue Scrubs With the Two Boys at Whataburger,

To the lady in the blue scrubs with the two boys at Whataburger,

I recognized you.  I didn't think I would but I did.  It wasn't a good recognition.  But you know what popped into my head the moment I saw your face?  You were that person.  You were the person who laughed at me, made fun of me, chided me, told me I would never be good enough, cool enough, spread rumors about me, made the class laugh at me and so on.  You bullied me when we were younger.

I was shocked at how I recognized you and all these negative thoughts of you popped in my head.  It was like re-living those moments in mere seconds when I saw you.  No, I wasn't scared.  No, I did not coward in fear of you coming over to greet me or laugh at me.  No, I was shocked more than anything.  I was shocked at how I remembered you.  I'm sure that's not the kind of reputation you wanted to be remembered by. The last time I saw you, we were teenagers.

I remembered you as the girl who made fun of me.  That's how I knew you and that's how I'd remember you for the rest of my life.  I don't know how or if you remember me.  I don't know if you think nothing happened between us or if you remember me as the weak, nerdy, four-eyed, overweight, permed hair girl. All in all, I don't know the kind of life you had or your perspective.  But I'll let you know something.  A person like you stays in a person like me (aka the bully and the bullied)'s mind for life.  Your name is a name I'd remember.  When I hear your name in reference to anything else beside you, I think of you.  Your face, your voice, your name.  It's something that someone like me never forgets.  I don't even remember all the names of my classmates or what grade they all were in with me but I remember you.  It was years ago.  I'm 32 now.  This was middle school I was referring to.  You are plastered in my mind forever as the girl who made fun of me.  Why?

Well, you caused pain, you caused hurt, you caused my self-esteem to go down. You made me doubt everything.  I was a weak, insecure teenager and I let you in to hurt me.  It's the kind of thing that stays with you for the rest of your life, like a scar.

When I saw you, there was a urge of putting on a show in front of you to show you that I am better than you and you cannot get to me anymore.  I wanted to taunt you and show you that I was single, living the best life ever, traveling, living a luxury compared to yo.... (sure, there's always that evil inkling somewhere which I cannot deny.)

No... no... I refuse to step in your shoes like you were when we were younger.  No, I refuse to act like a child.  No, I will not bring myself to the lowest, shallowest level.  No, I am better than this.  I pushed all of that evil urge out of my mind and what did I do?  I looked at you quickly and admired your kids.  I silently praised you for being a mother to those two kids who looked well behaved and did not cause any scenes or ruckus in the restaurant.  They were young gentlemen.  I praised you for making ends meet by working in the medical field.  Those are not easy jobs to have and I am in awe of you.  As soon as I saw you, I smiled and looked away.  I finally saw you as my equal.  You weren't the person I remembered.  You were something else. Something I long to be, a mother.  But I admired you for doing the impossible and I would cheer at your side whenever you were feeling low.

Now, I should have approached you and talked to you.  But I wasn't sure if you'd remember me.  So, next time, I'd better approach you and ease you in a conversation.  Maybe we'd be friends.  But if I had talked to you, I would have sang your praises on motherhood, your young gentlemen, and working.  Maybe I'd get to know you better. But today changed how I would remember you from now on.

So, to the mother in the blue scrubs of the two young gentlemen at Whataburger,  I wish you luck in the near future and I'll do better next time to approach you and introduce myself. Keep it up, you are doing wonderfully.

Thank you for all you do in the medical field.

Your former middle school classmate

P.S.  I've seen these kind of stories with pictures but I respect yours and your kids' privacy so I did not include nor take one.