As a child, I was a shy and awkward student who wore thick glasses and was often pushed to the side during social interactions. However, as I entered the sixth grade, I finally floated around to the different friend groups, yet I still didn’t feel connected with the people around me. Thus, I shared with a few friends my made-up hand motions which disguised explicit names towards a classmate that many, including myself, disliked. For a while, these “codes” were kept under hushed tones and seemed funny at the time, but the laughter quickly came to an end when I was pulled into the hallway by my homeroom teacher. With each step, my guilt and resentment built up and I finally saw that I had become a grade-schooler’s worst nightmare – a bully. Although
