Full Circle: A Reflection on Penny, My Childhood Bully

Life has a funny way of coming full circle, doesn’t it? As I sit here reflecting on my childhood, one story stands out—a story that I’ve spent years processing, only to find it has a twist ending that even I couldn’t have predicted.

Let me introduce you to Penny, the girl who turned my junior high years into a battlefield. Penny and I met in 5th grade when she transferred to the same elementary school. At first, we were friends—two girls navigating the awkwardness of pre-adolescence. She lived in a trailer park with her mom and younger sister. I visited her home a handful of times, but there was never much adult supervision. Her mom worked second shift at a nursing home and would often head out to the bars after her shift, leaving Penny and her sister to fend for themselves.

We spent summers walking around the trailer park—something I now realize was dangerous given the sketchiness of the area. Penny loved chasing boys and flirting, a hobby that didn’t sit well with me. But things shifted in 7th grade when Penny decided I was a threat to her relationship with her boyfriend. The accusation was absurd—I had no interest in him—but that didn’t stop her from turning on me.

The insults came first. She called me ugly, accused me of stealing his attention, and declared I’d never be good enough for anyone. By 8th grade, she’d recruited a posse of mean girls to back her up. I was shoved into lockers, my head slammed against walls, and mocked with the nickname “Tuna.” They tried to make me feel ugly, unwanted, and disgusting. And for a while, they succeeded.

Their cruelty stripped me of my confidence, leaving me feeling small and helpless. My father, furious at the treatment I endured, told me to steer clear of those girls, calling them “derelicts and deadbeats.” Over the summer before freshman year, I took his words to heart. I realized I had nothing to prove to Penny or anyone else. I learned to stand up for myself and started to see their behavior for what it was: jealousy.

They envied the life I had—a stable home, loving parents, and opportunities they couldn’t imagine. I was more than just the girl-next-door pretty or the friendly face in class. I had potential, ambition, and resilience.

Fast forward to now, and here’s the ironic twist: Penny is a bartender at my family’s tavern, a job she landed during a period when I was no-contact with my family. When I first heard the news, I laughed. The girl who once tried to make me feel small is now working for my family. Imagine being a single mother of five, no education, and needing to ask for a job from the family of the girl you tormented in junior high.

Is she laughing about this, thinking she pulled one over on them? Maybe. I’m almost certain her thinking was, look how dumb the Jurgellas are, they know I bullied Dana and hired me anyway. But I can’t help but see the poetic justice in it all. Penny, who thought she was untouchable back in the day, is now slinging drinks in a bar owned by my family.

Meanwhile, I’ve built a life I’m proud of—a college-educated professional with a fulfilling career, a loving husband, and three wonderful kids. I live in a home filled with love, a far cry from the chaos of her trailer park days.

Penny once tried to make me feel like a loser, but life has a way of revealing the truth. I didn’t just survive her bullying; I thrived despite it. And that’s the ultimate victory.