The conversation around bullying came up on our ride to school recently. I mentioned that the kids might run into some of their old schoolmates at the interschool sports match later in the day. The school they were going to play at is very close to their previous one, so it was likely others from their old school could participate too.

 

That sparked memories – who might be there, and who might end up playing against them. The lastborn described one child whose name came up, simply: “He was a bully; he wasn’t my friend.” I asked more, trying to understand what this young “bully” had done to earn that label. “He was very mean from the first day he joined”. I recognised the name and remembered a couple of incidents that the school had addressed swiftly.

 

What struck me most, though, was that my 10-year-old couldn’t remember the “bad name” he’d been called by that child – though he could recall what the child had said about his friend. That gave me some comfort. I’d like to believe it means he was able to shrug it off and move on – not that he’s buried the insult so deep that it now hides somewhere in the subconscious, too painful to recall.

 

We love teachable moments

 

But the heart of my reflection today lies in what the 11-year-old added: “So-and-so was very confident to say that.” “That’s definitely not confidence,” I responded. “Confidence is a positive emotion. That was hurtful.” It opened up a conversation about why hurt people hurt people. It’s something we see every day, all over the world.

 

And the internet delivers it straight into our auras – whether it’s the daily microaggressions or the unthinkable violence and wars we’re still witnessing. In 2025. We see it on the playground, we see in it the office, we see it when we’re out socialising.

 

The wounds we pass on

 

Raising other souls is at the heart of this discussion. Its genesis lies in how we ourselves have been raised. The gravity of parenting weighs heavy. Each person lashing out – whether in subtle ways or explosive ones – is showing us something about their own lived experience.

 

If you’re the leader of the “first world” and you throw tantrums like a two-year-old, chances are you were never allowed to fully express yourself as a toddler – or you were emotionally neglected in those formative years.

 

You see, we can only give what we have. What we offer is shaped by what we’ve lived. You can’t give love and compassion if you don’t hold those things for yourself. You can’t be forgiving of others if you haven’t learned to be forgiving of yourself.

 

Dear heart, the next time you feel wronged – whether someone cuts in front of you in traffic, avoids eye contact, doesn’t return your text for days… or when you’re witnessing the global scale of pain: the senseless violence, the manipulation, the deceit – pause. Take a deep breath. And offer grace.

 

Because more often than not, the ones who hurt are carrying deep pain themselves. Pain so layered and unhealed that it spills out in anger, in silence, in control, in harm.

 

That’s the insight: how others behave isn’t about you. It’s not yours to carry, and it’s certainly not yours to fix. You can’t control what others do.


What you can control is how you choose to respond. With compassion. With boundaries. With clarity. And sometimes, with space. It’s Tuesday. It’s choose day. Choose you.