My Story as a Mother of a Bullied Child

By Leah

When my son was first bullied, I don’t think I realized how much it would change all of us, not just him, but me as a mother, and our family as a whole. At first, I thought it might be just kids being unkind, something that would pass. But it didn’t. It grew worse.

My son went through things no child should ever have to go through. He literally didn’t have any friends. He was never included in anything like games, Shabbos invitations, or even just simple hanging out. Kids would gang up on him, snicker behind his back, and right to his face. They made fun of everything they possibly could: his shoes, his haircut, the way he looked, anything they could find to pick on. They would tell him to pick up their stuff off the floor, like he was there to serve them. He was even threatened with his life. He was never invited over to kids’ houses or included in groups. At bar mitzvahs, when he worked up the courage to ask another classmate to dance, they would turn away and leave him standing there alone. The pain of seeing your child go through that kind of humiliation and isolation is something I’ll never forget.

My child started to withdraw. He turned inward, began hating himself, questioning his worth, and shutting me out. He could no longer focus in school. A child who once loved learning and excelled in his classes became a child who panicked, worried constantly, and could barely concentrate. His grades slipped. His confidence was gone. He went from being a bright, eager student to a terrified child who believed he wasn’t good enough for anything.

As a mother, this broke me. I watched my son lose his self-worth, day by day, and I felt helpless to stop it. The school didn’t take it seriously at first. We tried addressing it, but they played it down, as if it wasn’t really happening. By the time they finally admitted it was, the damage had already taken root.

The stress didn’t just affect him; it literally consumed me, too. When the clock hit 4, I would dread seeing my son walk through the door, anticipating another meltdown of sobs. I couldn’t calm down. I felt completely helpless and started having panic attacks from the weight of it all. My health declined so much that my parents had to step in and help take care of my family. I was living in constant fear and exhaustion, watching my child crumble before my eyes. It took years of support, love, and rebuilding for my son to slowly regain his confidence, begin believing in himself again, and find joy in life.

Bullying has lasting wounds; it doesn’t just hurt for a moment, it steals something precious. It takes away a child’s self-worth, their sense of safety, their confidence, and their ability to trust the world around them. Victims often live in fear, second-guessing themselves, unable to focus or thrive. The damage is deep and doesn’t just vanish when the bullying stops.

But the effects don’t end with the victim. They reach far beyond.

Bullying also stains the bully. The choices they make to mock, intimidate, and tear down become a shadow that follows them. Forgiving a bully is not easy, and in many cases, it feels impossible. Victims often carry grudges, not just toward the child who hurt them but also toward the bully’s family. Parents of bullies are often seen as enablers, whether or not they knew what was happening. The bitterness lingers. And while holding onto grudges isn’t healthy, it is an understandable human response when so much pain has been inflicted.

Those grudges can poison relationships, damage reputations, and cast a long shadow over a family name. People don’t forget cruelty. Even years later, the stigma remains. What goes around comes around, and eventually, a bully’s choices return to them in one way or another.

When a child is bullied, the suffering doesn’t just stay with that child. It ripples outward. Parents lose sleep. Siblings feel the tension. The whole household feels the tension. Grandparents step in to support when the weight is too heavy. Families carry the scars, too.

And when schools downplay or ignore the reality of bullying, they become part of the problem. They send a message that cruelty is tolerable, that victims must endure, that bullies won’t face real consequences. This doesn’t just harm one child; it damages the trust of the entire community.

On the other side, the bully’s family feels the effects too. Whether through shame, denial, or guilt, they also live with the shadow of their child’s actions. Their reputation is affected. Their name becomes connected to pain they may not have even witnessed.

No one escapes untouched.

I wish I had a simple solution to this, but I don’t. I don’t know the perfect solution for stopping bullying. What I do know is that silence and inaction only allow it to grow. Ignoring bullying hurts everyone: the victim, the family, the community, and even the bullies themselves.

We need to talk about it, even when it’s uncomfortable. We need to raise awareness, not sweep it under the rug. We need to teach kindness, empathy, and accountability at home and demand the same from schools. Please share this with as many people as possible. Change only happens with action.

Bullying changes lives, for both the victim and the bully. It scars, it stains, it follows, and it multiplies. If we work together, parents, teachers, and communities, we can create a culture where kindness is stronger than cruelty, and where children feel safe, valued, and loved. Maybe parents can make a pact on the class WhatsApp groups to make sure each child in that class feels safe.

Baruch Hashem, my son has been able to move forward in life. He has grown, healed, and even married. But I still carry the memories of what we went through, and I know how deep those wounds once were. I also know of many families suffering from what we went through right now, good, healthy mainstream kids who have to be taken out of school because of the unhealthy behaviors of their peers, when in reality it should be the bully who needs to be removed from the school, unless stopped.

That is why I want to end with this as we are about to enter Yom Kippur:

If you know that your child has bullied or harmed someone, in any way, please don’t ignore it. Encourage your child to ask for forgiveness. If you, as a parent, know of someone who suffered because of your child, reach out. A simple apology, a genuine acknowledgment, can be incredibly healing.

And if you know of someone who went through the system, someone who struggled in school because of bullying, encourage your children, or even yourselves, to reach out to them. To say, “I’m sorry.” To take responsibility. Because sometimes, the healing that victims need most is not just from moving on, but from knowing that those who hurt them recognize the pain they caused.

Forgiveness may not erase the scars, but it can open the door to peace. And that, I believe, is something we all have the power to give.