The Girl They All Hated

She didn’t ask to be remembered. She just refused to disappear.

I wasn’t always the girl they hated. There was a time I laughed in the lunchroom with people who used to call me their best friend. A time I was tagged in photos, not cropped out. A time when my phone lit up with invites, not whispers behind my back. I didn’t notice the shift right away — hate doesn’t always knock. Sometimes it creeps in through the cracks, disguised as distance, coated in fake smiles.

But the day I stopped trying to be liked… was the day they decided to hate me.

They said I changed.

I think what they meant was: I stopped shrinking.

I wore my hair how I liked it. My eyeliner got sharper. My voice got louder — or maybe I just stopped apologizing every time I opened my mouth. I walked like I owned something. Not the school, not the hallway. Just… myself.

And somehow, that made me a problem.

Girls started to side-eye me like I walked in sin. Boys talked about me like I was a rumor they made up. Ex-friends threw my name around like I was a phase they regretted.

It didn’t matter what I did — it was how I did it. Boldly. Beautifully. Unbothered.

You want to know what it’s like to be the girl they all hate?

It’s lonely.
It’s walking through crowded halls feeling like a ghost with skin too loud.
It’s hearing your name in whispers that go silent when you pass. It’s scrolling past posts you weren’t tagged in — parties you were clearly never meant to know about.

But it's also power. Real power.

Because when no one’s left to impress, you start living honestly.