When I moved schools, I also moved friend groups. At my old school, I had a few friends. I didn’t know it then, but they were toxic and mean. They would yell at anyone who tried to talk to me and then yell at me for talking to other people. At the time, I thought this was weird, but I let it go. There was also a kid at my old school who would constantly tease me or shove me at recess. The teachers didn’t see this most of the time, so it kept happening. One of my friends would almost daily tell me about her crush on my bully. She knew how he treated me, but she still liked him.

When I said I wanted to make new friends and talk to other people, one of my friends (who was one of those people who would bully other kids) told me that if I made new friends, we wouldn’t be friends anymore, and she would treat me the same as everyone else in the school. This scared me, so I stayed. As time went on, I watched as they got into trouble and dragged me along.

One day, two of my friends weren’t allowed to talk to each other during before- or after-care, and they started yelling at each other, grabbing and tugging on my arms, and arguing about who would hang out with me. After that day, my mom asked me if I wanted to move schools. At first, I didn’t want to. The thought of having to meet new people I didn’t know scared me. After a little while of still going to my old school, I realized that I wanted to move schools. So when my mom asked again, I said yes.

Moving schools was hard. I didn’t know anyone, and I didn’t know what people at my new school would be like or if they’d like me. I was quiet at first, getting to know how people interacted with each other and what the teachers were like. Then, one day during math class, we had to stack cups as far as we could, and the cups would fall, or people would sabotage their friends’ stacks. Kids were laughing instead of yelling and screaming at each other, which is what normally happened at my old school. Soon, I started to laugh at jokes and talk more, and I started making real friends.

The day my friends and I lay on our backs on the blacktop, talking and laughing so hard that our sides hurt, I knew I had a good friend group. Now I know I have friends I can laugh and cry with without them judging me or calling me weak. They have taught me to stand up for myself; even if the person you’re standing up to is a friend, you should still speak up if they make you uncomfortable.

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