Admitting that I was the mean girl is no easy feat. It takes a lot to voice that truth, especially for everyone to hear. Yet, I share this in hopes of offering support to mothers whose children endure the sting of meanness or teasing. More importantly, I want to reach out to mothers of those who might be the bullies—the girls who, perhaps unintentionally, use their popularity to belittle others. I was that girl—an outwardly confident child with a trendy haircut and a bright smile, seemingly living my best life.
But underneath that exterior, I struggled to belong within my small circle at a private school, a struggle that was often overshadowed by typical childhood ups and downs. I remember each of those moments clearly, and I wonder if my mother ever realized how deeply I processed them. Did she know how vulnerable I felt? Probably not. I never shared those feelings, and she never asked. Though I see those moments as minor now, they were deeply painful then, and adults around me rarely took the time to probe deeper.
While my background doesn’t excuse my behavior, understanding the roots of a mean girl can help us address this troubling issue. I longed for the friendship of Lisa Carter. My heartache began in third grade when she was taken by another girl, who I saw as prettier and funnier. Lisa, blissfully unaware of the impact, was simply trying to adjust to her new school. That experience was my first encounter with rejection, and it left me feeling like there was no place for me.
Perhaps that hurt gave rise to my own harshness, which I began to project onto others. As I grew, I became more cunning in suppressing my emotions, which led to a dangerous cycle of meanness. It didn’t happen all at once, but I remember the slow build-up of my teasing tendencies. My mother was oblivious to what transpired at school and in our neighborhood until another parent called her to report my unkindness.
I recall the moment I received the call from the principal that my mom was on her way to pick me up. Standing in the cold, snowy playground, I felt a mix of dread and relief. I knew my time of recklessness was coming to an end. When I got into the car and saw my mother’s face, tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt caught, ashamed, but also strangely free. Whatever darkness I had hidden was finally exposed, and I felt her love in that moment.
Even today, I still have moments where I might tease too much. I strive to be better, and I believe the mean girl in me has faded. Life experiences, including loss and hardship, have softened my heart over the years, and I find joy in connecting with others.
It’s essential to view these mean girls for who they are—young girls grappling with their own pain and insecurities. As they seek control and power, their meanness emerges. Show them love, kindness, and opportunities for open dialogue—whether it’s during breakfast preparations or bedtime chats. Recognize those fleeting moments of vulnerability, and remember that the girl who acts mean is often just a little girl inside, like I once was.
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Summary
Acknowledging that I was once a mean girl, I share my story to provide hope and understanding for both mothers of victims and bullies. Recognizing the underlying pain in mean girls can lead to compassion and healing. Love, open dialogue, and awareness can help reshape these young girls into kinder individuals.