My Own Private Bully

The second floor walls of my sons’ high school are lined with blown-up portrait of teachers. Under each is a caption that says “I was a bully” or “I was bullied.” I admire the teachers who’ve admitted these in the hopes of helping students. I was lucky: I was neither bullied nor a bully in high school.

Then, in my 50s, it happened: A co-worker began bullying me. And I was totally unprepared. I’m a librarian and my bully is a librarian too. We’re both adults and professionals. We both love our jobs. Turns out none of that makes a difference.