Healing from Bullying: What No One Tells You

Breaking Free from the Past and Rebuilding Your Confidence.

Today, I present a guest post on bullying from

Salwa 🇬🇧

. Please subscribe to her amazing Substack Quietly Becoming which she describes as:

“A space to unlearn self-judgment, embrace the truth of who you are, and reclaim your right to rest, heal, and exist—without apology.”

People like to believe that bullying is something you grow out of. That once it stops, you move on. That once you’re no longer being tormented, called names, or made to feel small, the wounds magically disappear.

But here’s the truth no one talks about: The aftermath of bullying doesn’t just disappear when the bullying stops.

It lingers. In the way you talk to yourself. In the way you struggle to trust others. In the moments where you still feel like the kid who was laughed at, humiliated, or made to believe they weren’t enough.

For years, I thought I had moved on. But bullying doesn’t just live in memories—it leaves imprints. And healing from it is a journey I never expected to take.

---

The Long Shadow of Bullying

People who have never been bullied don’t always understand the weight of it. They think it’s just a bad experience, something that happens to some kids, something you’ll eventually forget.

But bullying shapes the way you see yourself. The way you move through the world. The way you connect with people (or struggle to).

The scars are not just emotional—they are psychological, behavioural, and sometimes even physical. They show up in subtle ways, in everyday moments, in the way you flinch at certain tones of voice or hesitate before speaking up. They are carried in the tension in your shoulders when you enter a room full of people, in the way your stomach tightens when you have to be vulnerable, in the hesitation before trusting someone new.

For me, and for so many others, the scars showed up in ways I never expected:

Self-Esteem That Feels Like a Balancing Act

Even years later, I sometimes wonder: Am I actually enough? Or am I just good at pretending?

Bullying plants self-doubt so deep that even when life moves forward, part of you still hears their voices. Still wonders if people really like you. Still fights the fear that you’re too much or not enough.

Even in moments of confidence, there’s often a quiet voice whispering, “What if they’re just being nice?” Or “What if they’re laughing at you behind your back?”

It takes time—so much time—to unlearn those thoughts. To believe in yourself without waiting for external validation. To accept that your worth has never been defined by someone else's cruelty.

Trust That Comes with Caution

When you’ve been hurt, it’s hard to believe that people won’t hurt you again. Even when you meet good people, part of you waits for the moment they’ll turn on you.

You become an expert at scanning for red flags, always a step away from shutting down, from protecting yourself before anyone gets too close.

Sometimes, you hesitate to form new friendships because you remember the ones that ended in betrayal. You wonder if opening up is worth the risk. You want to believe in the goodness of others, but experience has taught you to be careful.

Trust becomes something you ration out in small doses, measuring people’s reactions, testing whether they are safe. And even when they prove they are, the fear of disappointment never fully disappears.

Relationships That Feel Like a Puzzle

Bullying can make connection complicated. You want closeness, but you also want safety. You crave belonging, but you fear rejection.

Some of us shrink ourselves to be more likeable. Some of us build walls so high that no one can get through. Either way, we carry the echoes of the past into the present.

It can be hard to believe that people will accept you for who you are, without conditions. Hard to believe that love doesn’t have to be earned. Hard to unlearn the idea that you have to prove your worth to deserve kindness.

But connection is possible. It takes work. It takes healing. It takes the courage to let yourself be seen, even when part of you wants to stay hidden.

---

Healing Is Not a Straight Line

Nobody tells you that healing from bullying is a process. That it’s messy. That it doesn’t happen in a single moment of closure, but in layers.

For me, healing looked like:

• Unlearning the instinct to make myself smaller.

• Rewriting the way I spoke to myself.

• Allowing myself to trust, even when it felt terrifying.

• Letting go of the idea that I had to prove I was worthy of kindness.

But even with all of that, there are still days when I struggle. When self-doubt creeps in. When I hear the old voices whispering that I don’t belong.

And that’s the thing—healing isn’t about never feeling the weight of it again. It’s about learning how to carry it differently.

Healing is in the small choices you make every day:

• Choosing to believe the people who see your worth instead of the ones who tore you down.

• Learning to quiet the voices of the past and listen to your own.

• Giving yourself permission to take up space, to speak, to exist without apology.

It’s a journey. And it’s okay if you’re still walking it.

---

To Anyone Still Healing

If you’re still carrying the weight of bullying, I want you to know this:

• You are not who they said you were.

• You are not unworthy of kindness or love.

• The way they treated you was never a reflection of your value—it was a reflection of them.

Healing doesn’t mean erasing the past. It means choosing, every day, to write a different future.

And even on the days when you still feel small, know this: you are so much bigger than what they did to you.

Healing from bullying isn’t about pretending it never happened. It’s about reclaiming yourself. About recognising that while the past shaped you, it does not define you. About finding the courage to move forward, even when part of you still feels stuck in the echoes of yesterday.

It takes time. It takes patience. It takes self-compassion.

But you will get there. And when you do, you’ll see that you were never as broken as they made you feel.

You were always whole. Always worthy. Always enough.

With love,

Salwa from Quietly Becoming.