Kristin Björnsson

I could barely concentrate on my homework last night in Reykjavik, Iceland, replaying the terrible events from school over and over in my head. It started with that awful ranking game. One of the boys in my class thought it would be funny to have everyone rate each other based on looks and other random characteristics. When I saw the results on the board during break, my heart sank. There it was: "Smallest breasts" next to my name, written in bold letters for everyone to see.

I’m 14 and already feel self-conscious about everything. This stupid game was too much. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to disappear and never come back to school. Talking to my parents about it wasn’t an option.

Then, as if things couldn’t get worse, the instigator posted the results on Instagram. Now, it wasn’t just my classmates who saw it. Everyone could see it, including our class teacher. I felt so exposed, so humiliated. It was like my worst nightmare had come true.

Today, our class teacher did something unexpected. Instead of a regular lesson, he told us to sit in a circle. We had to look at each other in silence for three minutes and then talk about how we felt. Of course, everyone thought it was awkward, but we all went along with it.

During those three minutes, it felt like time slowed down. I saw the faces of my classmates, really saw them, and I could tell they felt just as awkward and exposed as I did. When the silence ended, our teacher asked us to share our feelings. Some made jokes, some mumbled, but a few of us spoke honestly. I was surprised to hear that others felt as insecure as I did.

It was strange, but by the end of the discussion, I felt a bit lighter. The whole thing, as humiliating as it was, brought us closer. We realized that despite our differences, we all shared similar insecurities. The ranking game seemed less important, just a silly thing that happened. It didn’t erase the hurt, but it helped.

For the first time, I felt a sense of solidarity with my classmates. We’re all just trying to figure things out, and sometimes we hurt each other in the process. But now, maybe we can be a little kinder, a little more understanding. And that’s something worth holding on to.