I live at school. Not because I love it, but because home is a war I got tired of losing.
Boarding school was supposed to be an escape. But turns out, monsters don’t need addresses they travel in texts, in voicemails in the mouth of teachers who were supposed to be grown ups, but act like mean girls in blazers.
My stepmother doesn’t have to be near me to make my skin crawl. Her words arrive on screens. Her voice leaks through the phone. “You’re a disappointment.” “An embarrassment.” “She thinks she’s better than everyone else.”
She weaponizes my silence. Twists my distance into guilt. And the teachers? They carry her messages like loyal dogs. Repeat her insults with that tight-lipped smile like they’re reading bible verses instead of abuse.
And when I crack— when the rage explodes out of my chest because no one listens until I yell— I’m the problem. “She’s aggressive.” “She has anger issues.” “Unstable.”
But tell me— what do you become when you’re poked, poked, poked every single day by girls who think pain is a game and teachers stand by like broken statues?
What do you become when every voice you hear is one telling you you’re too loud, too bold, too much— when all you’ve ever been is trying to survive a world that chews you up for breathing wrong?
I never wanted to be the girl who fights. But kindness never stopped the bleeding. And fists speak louder in a world that turns its back when you whisper “help.”
All I want is peace. Not your false calm— not the silence that chokes me. I mean peace where I can exist, unafraid of my own name coming out of someone else’s mouth.
I want to walk through these halls and not flinch at the sound of my phone. I want teachers to teach, not take sides in wars I never started.
I want to feel safe somewhere. Anywhere. I’m tired of being told I’m too much by people who give too little. I’ve bled in places you’ll never see and still managed to be kind. Do you know how strong that makes me?
So if you’re reading this, and you’ve ever made someone feel small just because you could— congratulations. But I’m still here. And your hate? It ends with me.
Because I will fight, if I have to. But all I ever wanted was to be left the hell alone.