ONLINE BULLYING IS VIOLENCE — 160,000 kids skip school every day out of fear of being bullied.
By Jen Benford. Someone who has been bullied since (at least) middle school for being different.
Someone tried to come for me online today. But they picked the wrong one. Someone who has dealt with keyboard warriors and real-life bullies her whole.damn.life. I was bullied in middle school, used to eat lunch in the library by myself many days. I will share more about that in my book that I am getting ready to drop.
But back to the point, while I could brush it off or pretend it didn’t matter, I won’t. Because it does matter. Not just for me—but for every kid, teen, or adult who’s ever felt gutted by the cruelty of internet strangers. For anyone who has been targeted, shamed, or broken down just for being human.
So let me be VERYYYYYYYYYYYY clear:
Online bullying is violence.
It leads to trauma. It leads to panic attacks. It leads to isolation. And yes—sometimes it leads to suicide.
Especially for children. Especially for neurodivergent people. Especially for those already carrying the weight of grief, trauma, or identity-based discrimination.
And the worst part?
Most of the people doing it… will never say it to your face.
They hide behind private accounts, fake usernames, and vague passive-aggressive comments designed to humiliate or control. Their profile picture is probably sunglasses with a hoodie where you cannot see their face. Keyboard warriors with no spine, no accountability, and no idea the weight their words carry.
They pretend it’s “just a joke.”
They say “don’t be so sensitive.”
They call it “free speech.”
But cruelty isn’t clever.
Sarcasm isn’t strategy.
Projection isn’t power.
Let’s talk about the facts:
Suicide is the second-leading cause of death for people ages 10–34 in the U.S.
Cyberbullying victims are 4.2x more likely to report suicidal thoughts and attempts.
LGBTQ+ youth who are bullied have double or triple the suicide attempt rate of their peers.
160,000 kids skip school every day out of fear of being bullied.
(Source: NIH, The Trevor Project, JAMA, CDC)
And yet we still treat career breaks, mental health, and human emotion like a weakness.
So here’s what I want you to know:
If my truth makes you uncomfortable, good.
That’s what happens when someone holds up a mirror.
I’m not here to make you feel safe in your cruelty.
I’m not here to coddle your comfort.
I’m here to show you the mirror.
To help you look at the parts of yourself you’ve spent years avoiding.
If you're triggered by people speaking truth, by others healing out loud, or by someone dancing in their kitchen reclaiming joy after trauma—maybe that says more about you than it does about them.
I used to hold it in.
Smile through it.
Pretend it didn’t hurt.
Numb it with alcohol.
Shrink myself so you could feel big.
Not anymore.
I will no longer match the volume of your projection.
I will rise above it—and use it as fuel. And I will call it out, too.
Because some of us are here to heal out loud.
To say what others are too afraid to say.
To protect the ones who haven’t found their voice yet.
To make damn sure that people know—they’re not alone.
So if you don’t like how I show up online?
Be gone.
Take your bitterness elsewhere.
I’m here to dance, to disrupt, and to shine light on the stuff we’re taught to bury.
Because that? That’s the real alchemy.
And if I can stop one person from believing the lies that a bully told them—then I’ll keep going.
Every. Damn. Day
Author's Note:
This piece was crafted with the help of ChatGPT, because technology can be powerful when it's used to amplify truth, clarity, and justice. Let this be one of those moments.