When I was six years old, my grandmother’s best friend came to visit. He was an elder, older than my grandmother, and somehow we got into a heated back-and-forth. Him, fifty-something. Me, six. At some point, I slapped him. And he slapped me right back. Now, my grandmother was standing right there, watching the whole thing. I fully expected her to lose her mind because she usually did whenever someone hurt me. Instead, she called me aside and said: “How many times do I have to tell you?

Girl, one of my elementary school bullies just messaged me to borrow money for her business. 😭 The plot twist??? Back in elementary school, she and her friends would steal my pencils and erasers. I’d go home with missing school supplies, and my mom would scold me for losing them AGAIN. Little did she know, I’d see those same girls using MY things the next day. And it broke my heart because we were poor. Those pencils and erasers weren’t just things we could easily replace.