When I grow up I’m going to KILL you.
Good morning fellow Toastmasters and dear guests.
That was the promise I gave my childhood bully after a fight in school. In reply, he picked up my glasses and it snapped into two. He laughed and walked away, leaving me seething with rage.
When I reached home, even my parents punished me harshly for breaking those new expensive glasses.
I took it all in silence. I didn’t explain myself or ask for help. Because I was determined. I wanted the satisfaction of getting revenge on the bully myself.
That day I promised myself I would never let it go.
The time I spent near him was filled with absolute, agonising rage. Why? Because he was everything I wasn’t. I was overweight; he was strong. He was aggressive, but l was not. I was below average. He had top grades. I was invisible. He was popular.
That anger—my thirst for revenge—became my fuel.
I channelled it into improving myself. I started studying consistently and doing homework and assignments on time. My grades improved. I started playing outdoor games. Made new friends. I started to see my potential. But by the time I was strong enough to confront him, he had gone to another school.
Fast forward. I completed my studies, got a job, started earning, and pursuing different hobbies. Life was good.
But recently, during the Diwali holidays, I had gone to my hometown. I saw the bully. There he was, just across the street. He looked different—out of shape, depressed. He looked like he had lost interest in life. But it was him. 100%.
The old venomous thoughts were rising. I rolled up my sleeves and clenched my fists. I started following him, not even sure what I was going to do to him if I caught up.
Just as I was about to overtake him, I heard a child’s voice shouting, “Papa! Papa!” A little girl ran past me, followed by her mother. His face lit up as he dropped everything and swept his daughter into his arms.
I wanted to stay angry. I wanted to hold on to that old promise.
But they looked so happy. At that moment, I realized three things:
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First, I realized I am a family man myself. Hurting him would mean hurting his family—and that’s not what I want to do.
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Second, I saw the joy in his daughter’s eyes. Children and wives deserve to see their fathers and husbands as heroes. Who was I to shatter that image?
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The third was that people change. He wasn’t the same boy and I certainly wasn’t going to stay the same venomous, rage-driven, unhealthy boy.
My thoughts were interrupted by them laughing. He glanced at me and from his lack of reaction he certainly didn’t recognise me. I waved at his daughter and walked away.
The old demons were buried for good and I was going to get on with the life I was blessed to live.
So, have you ever carried a grudge so heavy that it held you back from moving forward? Maybe it’s time to let it go—not because they deserve forgiveness, but because you deserve freedom. You deserve peace. You deserve to grow.
Forgive your parents. Forgive your exes. Forgive yourself. Forgiveness doesn’t erase the scars of the past, but it sets us free to build a better future. It frees us to focus on what truly matters.
When we forgive, we rise above bitterness. And we discover that true success isn’t about revenge—it’s about choosing growth over revenge.
Thank you.
(The author delivered this speech as his Level 3, project 2 in Toastmasters)