Help! I Confronted My Bully at Our High School Reunion. Now She’s Begging for Forgiveness.

Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here.

Dear Prudence, 

My high school reunion was last weekend, and I ran into a former long-time bully (she bullied me for 12 years straight). Apparently “Jane” is now the nicest person in the world, but I don’t care. When she approached me and hilariously acted like we’d been good friends who just lost touch, I publicly reminded her that she conducted “polling” that all showed my classmates wanted me to kill myself. She also paid boys to grab my breasts in the cafeteria and laugh. No adult did anything, of course. I also reminded Jane that she was awful to me for over a decade, especially during a period when she was closer to being an adult than a child. I was very intentionally NOT mean, and my tone was matter-of-fact. I never yelled, but I didn’t lower my voice when we were in a group of people.

Jane did WAY more bullying than that. I cannot even begin to describe how much pain and anguish I endured AND I really was considering suicide for most of that 12-year period, which I told her. Therapy has addressed some of that pain, but it hasn’t completely gone away. Jane got upset and cried, and she tried to apologize, but I didn’t care. Nothing will undo what she did, and an apology is so disproportionate to the damage she inflicted. I told her this. After the reunion, Jane emailed me another apology, and it came off as really desperate. It seems as though I remind her that she’s not really the saint she is today. Do I owe her anything at this point? I’m not sorry about what I said. She deserves to live with some of the pain she caused that I’ve been carrying.

—The Ex Bully Is Still No Saint

Dear Ex Bully Is Still No Saint,

You don’t owe her forgiveness if you don’t feel it. But you also don’t owe her continued suffering, or a lesson about how inadequate her apology was given the way she hurt you. In fact, thinking a lot about Jane— whether she was upset by your interaction, whether she realizes she’s not a saint, whether she’ll ever be better than the person she was in high school, and how to make sure she gets what she deserves—is not a great idea. This story is about you, what you experienced, and how you stood up for yourself. Most importantly, it’s about how you heal, even if Jane never becomes a better person.

I understand why you want to contemplate what’s next for you two. I imagine you fantasized for years about confronting her in the way you did, and relished the thought of refusing to forgive her and seeing her suffer just a fraction of the amount you did back when you were a teenager. Recapping her actions and making her cry is exactly what all of us (well, let me not speak for everyone—those of us who are not fully evolved and who hold grudges) would like to experience with a toxic boss, an evil ex, or any other villain from our past. It’s the kind of conversation you script out in the shower. And you got to live out that fantasy in real life!

But now it’s over. I bet that almost makes you uneasy. I suspect part of you wants to hold onto the powerful feeling you’ve had while contemplating your next move and how Jane might react to it. But there’s nothing more to be done now. Except of course, the less dramatic and exciting work of figuring out how you can start to let go of the pain you’ve been carrying around, even while knowing that the world is full of Janes and most of them aren’t sorry at all.

Sometimes even Prudence needs a little help. This week’s tricky situation is below. Submit your comments about how to approach the situation here to Jenée, and then look back for the final answer here on Friday.

Dear Prudence, 

My partner has been on pretty harmless but annoying journey with drugs lately and I’m not sure how to deal with it. For context, we’ve been together about 10 years and have mostly been really naturally aligned on drugs and alcohol—light social drinking, a bit of weed use but nothing stronger. No red or even yellow flags about substance abuse, ever. It’s just that for the last few months, he’s been getting really into taking weed gummy most nights and having Deep Thoughts that he wants to verbally process with me. The other night, I sat totally silent on the couch reading a book for a whole hour while he monologued to me something about the nuances of various actors’ famous performances. Sometimes the Deep Thoughts are about art and music, but sometimes they’re very profound and vulnerable feelings he’s having about his identity, appearance, aging, etc. I don’t enjoy talking to someone who’s on another level than me, and being talked at gives me a literal headache but I’m nervous to harsh his vibe in the moment when he’s feeling very vulnerable.

Besides this behavior, I’d also honestly like to also just have more nights of the week together when he isn’t stoned. Weed mostly just makes me relaxed and sleepy, so I’m never really going there with him. He sees a therapist and he has friends, so I don’t think he’s so lonely and has no one to talk to. I think it’s more like weed removes his roadblocks to treating me more like a diary or an audience than a person. I have (honestly, painful) memories of watching my mom doze off on the couch while my motormouth dad talks to her, unaware and unconcerned if she cares to hear what he has to say or not. So I fear it’s a pattern I’m repeating! How would you approach a conversation like this? I never saw my mom address it once in her life.

—Unstoned and Unimpressed

Dear Unstoned and Unimpressed,

A friend and I still laugh about the time she spent the night at my house, indulged in a weed gummy after we’d both gone to bed, and then knocked on my bedroom door and woke me up with an urgent topic to discuss: She’d come up with an idea for what she called “the shortest self help book ever.” It would simply be one page that said, “Yo!” which was designed to surprise people and get their attention and [insert very passionate Deep Thoughts about why this was genius]. It was hilarious. But it would not have been hilarious if it happened every night. You shouldn’t have to endure this.

I do think it’s generally accepted that weed-inspired Deep Thoughts are not actually that profound to sober people, and only really seem interesting to the high person who’s sharing them. Nobody should take that personally. So if it feels like a fit for your respective personality and your relationship dynamic, it’s OK to treat this lightheartedly, and tease your partner a little about it. The morning after a monologue you could say something like, “Hey did you have any more thoughts about how aging isn’t real? You talked my ear off about it for 45 minutes last night—that gummy must have really been something!” Or the next night, ask, “How about you take half of one tonight? I don’t think I can survive another lecture about the decline of acting in summer blockbusters!” Or try, “Hey, I know it’s about to be Deep Thought time but I’m sober and not quite there with you. Can you journal about it or something while I watch Love Island?”

If you feel he’s too sensitive for that kind of feedback and you want to tread lightly, you can focus more on what you want to do with him than what you want him to stop doing—or how annoying he’s being. Try something like, “I’m loving some of the vulnerable feelings you’ve been sharing with me when you’re high but I was hoping to spend a few nights this week planning our next vacation/watching a movie/making this meal I saw on TikTok/getting your advice about a work situation and I feel like it would work better if you were sober and a little more present and not too deep in your thoughts. Could you hold off on the gummy until bedtime?”

Submit your questions anonymously here. (Questions may be edited for publication.) And for questions on parenting, kids, or family life, try Care and Feeding!

Dear Prudence, 

My wife’s nephew, Finn, is almost 4 years old. He was late to talk and as of now isn’t super verbal—he often repeats three to five word phrases. Finn doesn’t frequently make eye contact or respond to his name. He has strong negative reactions to overstimulating environments, and when he plays he likes to organize things, and is pretty singularly focused. Based on my informed though non-specialist perspective, I think it’s likely Finn might be on the Autism spectrum. As far as I know, Finn’s parents haven’t flagged this, nor have his daycare staff or doctors. I celebrate Finn’s possible neurodivergence and don’t think it’s a problem, but I also know early intervention can be extremely helpful, and that time to implement this is running out. I don’t necessarily feel it’s my place to say something to his parents—I have relationships with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law and see them somewhat regularly but we’re not that close. Do I find a way to advocate for Finn without overstepping, possibly by involving my wife or her parents? Is it my responsibility to alert the parents or would I be better off staying out of it?

—Helpful or Instrusive?

Dear Helpful or Intrusive,

Stay out of it. Finn’s doctors and teachers will almost certainly be on the case if something needs to be done—and so will less tactful family members and acquaintances who say whatever crosses their mind without writing to an advice columnist to ask whether it’s a good idea. And keep in mind, it’s possible that his parents have already considered and rejected the idea that he should be evaluated. Or they might’ve already brought this to their doctor’s attention, and you just aren’t privy to that. While your point about early intervention is a good one, I imagine that’s just one item on the long list of things that can be helpful to a neurodivergent kid. Another one is probably being surrounded by loved ones who appreciate your unique way of moving through the world and accept you unconditionally. It sounds like that’s where you can be the most helpful.

Dear Prudence, 

I wasn’t the best parent for my older two children. They were a product of an abusive marriage. I left, was in a string of bad relationships, and they grew up in poverty. I finally got a good therapist, moved states, and remarried. Having a baby with my partner has strained the relationship further with my 20-something-year-old kids. I feel tremendous guilt that they didn’t get the stable, healthy parents and financial security their half sister has. I’m sure it’s hard for them too and their anger is valid. Is there anything I can do to repair the relationship with my older kids?

—New Life, Tons of Regrets

Dear New Life, Tons of Regrets,

It’s not a foolproof solution and it doesn’t guarantee that your older kids will warm up to you, but I suggest an apology. Ideally in writing, so that you can be really thoughtful about it and edit it to make sure you say exactly what you want to convey. By the tone of this letter, I think you have the right mindset. You have regrets. You know they deserved better. You know they are justified in feeling the way you do. And you would love to repair your relationship with them. In many situations, simply saying, “I am so sorry, I know I messed up and that I hurt you, and I want to know if there is anything I can do to fix it” can be incredibly disarming. In situations like this, I love to recommend a very detailed and thorough episode of Slate’s How To! podcast, titled “How to repair a broken relationship before it’s too late,” where a mother who wants to reconnect with her estranged son gets some help. (Here’s a transcript if you’d rather read the guidance on how to write your letter.)

That might really need to be all they need to hear—and they may have some ideas about how you can be there for them as adults in a way you weren’t when they were younger. You say you have a baby now, so I would just caution you to wait to take action until you are at a point when you are well out of the postpartum period and have some time and energy to spare and some flexibility when it comes to your schedule. You don’t want them to say, “It would be great if we could all go to lunch together to talk about this” and have to reply, “Can’t do it, that’s when your little sister naps,” which could make them feel like they’re on the back burner yet again.

I met both “Teresa” and “Colin” in college. I grew close to both of them in separate friend groups. By the time we were graduating, the two of them were strongly infatuated with each other and began dating not long after. The relationship worried me, as they did not bring out the best in each other. I am ashamed to say I was very vocal about this opinion to everyone but the couple, and they soon stopped talking to me around the time they were married.