I am a 25 year old, 6'3" woman still struggling with bullies. The first time I was bullied I was a fetus in my 6'4" mother's belly. It was her first visit to meet with the man that was to be my pediatrician, he gawked at her height and exclaimed that she was to have a giant baby. She never returned, and found a less observant pediatrician for her first born.

From what I understand, I didn't grow a whole head of hair until I was 3 years old. I was always wearing one of those elastic headbands that squeezes your infant's head so the rest of the world can be certain of their gender. Despite this, strangers would often proclaim, what a big boy I was and couldn't believe I was only however old I was at the time. 

I remember one of the first times I really understood that I didn't fit it- I was 4 years old and my family had recently moved to a wonderful subdivision that had a park and other children I could play with. That was when I met Julie, my very first bully. She would come over to our house almost daily and play on the wooden fort my father had built in the backyard. I was thrilled to have made my first friend in this new neighborhood. She quickly became one of the meanest females I have ever known. She told me that I was a giant and would never make any friends and continued to try and keep that promise all the way through high school. 

Throughout elementary school, I was cut down by classmates and their parents for being the tallest student in my class, and eventually by 4th grade, the tallest in the school. In 4th grade I had a substitute teacher, Mr. O'Connor, belittle me in front my the class. I had a question so I sat silently with my hand raised at my desk. He finally looked over at me and scoffed, "What are you, the Statue of Liberty?!" I can't even remember what my question was anymore, but he continued to say, "You lie like a dog, you lie like fleas on a dog, you lie like fleas on a dog on a filthy rug. Be quiet." My classmates roared with laughter. I wanted to disappear.

In fifth grade, I was bullied by a boy that sat in the same grouping of desks as me. One day, when school was dismissed, he walked closely behind me in line and wrapped his hands around my neck just before we reached our lockers. I remember scratching his hands, feeling him squeeze as hard as he could. I couldn't hear anything- I don't think anyone even noticed. I finally closed my eyes and thought, well, I guess this is it then. Suddenly, Anthony, a classmate of mine, jumped on his back and took him down. I didn't know what to think. I couldn't comprehend that someone in my class, not only wasn't trying to destroy the little confidence that I had, but literally saved me.

6th grade was a really difficult school year for me. Looking back, I think everyone was feeling insecure about the upcoming transition to middle school. I remember wondering if I was still going to be called a loser, retard, gay, giant, freak, or fat-ass in middle school. I was feeling terrified of the possibilities, but the idea of being able to reinvent myself was exhilarating. I was going to stand tall (and not hunched over), score some friends and maybe a boyfriend?? I figured 4/5ths of the school wouldn't know who I was, so I could be the confident woman I desperately wanted to be. All of the girls in my class were trying out for the junior dance team and were rehearsing out at recess while the boys watched. I remember sitting alone on the jungle gym watching everyone rehearse with the big boom box in the grass. I decided, "F*ck it. I'm going to try out for the dance team." I gathered what little confidence I did have and jumped in line with the other girls. Tony, the coolest, cutest boy in my class shouts, "Olivia! [Oh my gosh, he knows my name!] No one wants to see you shake your fat ass! Get out of here!!" Everyone stopped the routine and laughed. I.wanted.to.die. Fade into nothing. Disappear. For the rest of the year, Tony and just about everyone else cut me down constantly.

Thursday was library day. One day Tony and his partner in humiliating me, Pat approached my table. Pat said that Tony[hands in his pockets] had a crush on me and wanted me to be his girlfriend. I couldn't believe it- I was so red in the face, skin blotching. After all this time and embarrassment, he liked me? Tony likes me? I looked up at him and realized he is pretending to masturbate through his pockets and they burst out laughing. He shouted, "No way! You are a loser- I would never go out with you!" He went back to his table and I sat there wanting to die. Fade into nothing. Disappear. I finally stood up and walked towards the bookshelves, past his seat. Suddenly I'm falling, chin crashes into the wooden table, knee slams into the cement floors beneath the carpet. My right knee fell hard. Really hard. My mouth and knee is bleeding. As I type this, I am right back in that moment Why can't I fit in? Why don't they like me? Why do they call me gay? Retarded? What do those words even mean? Will people always be mean to me? Will I ever get a boyfriend? F*ck my knee hurts!

Spoiler alert: Not a lot changed in middle school or high school for that matter. 

I did finally make a few friends, most of which used and abused just the same as everyone else. I've always been drawn to people that didn't quite fit in, just like me. Unfortunately, not all of them were just misfits and that couldn't fit the preteen/teen cookie mold. Some had trouble making friends because they were downright awful people. My best friend from 7th-12th grade started countless vicious rumors about me, dragged me into dangerous situations, and cut me down in the hallways. My self worth was slim to none.

Outside of school, adults would gawk at my height. They'd run through the usual questions: How tall are you? Do you play basketball, volleyball, etc.. How tall is your mom? Your dad? How's the weather up there? Do you have a boyfriend? How old are you? Do you have trouble fitting into submarines? [this was actually asked while shopping in Barnes and Noble with my mom] Because, I mean, who has seen a 6 foot tall 8th grader? 

And no, I don't play basketball or volleyball. I suck. :P

[I could kick your ass in tether ball, though.]

Senior year of high school I fell madly in love with one of my good friends that I'd always figured was way out of my league because he was super cute, funny, played guitar, and was, wait for it... NICE TO ME. As it turns out, he liked me too and 5 years later we married and now we've been together for 8. He's wonderful, supportive, occasionally awkward and his been through most of what I've been through, and in some cases much more. 

ANYHOW, one of my other awful best friends at the time insisted we apply to the same college and become roommates. Because I had no backbone, I happily obliged! We lived together for a miserable three weeks while she guilted me for having a boyfriend and cut me down for not wanting to party with her 7 days a week. She disrespected me and our living space every single day. I won't bother you with all the nitty gritty.. When I'd finally had enough of her abuse I went to our RA and begged for a new roommate. When she caught wind of my request, everything escalated even more. She and her new friends threatened me, spread rumors throughout our building, tried to destroy my relationship with my boyfriend, and finally made these awful fliers. She photoshopped my Facebook profile picture to make me look morbidly obese and added the tagline "How's the diet going, Olivia? Guess it didn't help your two-faced-ness LYLAS" These fliers were put all over our floor, the building, the parking lot, all over the entire campus. The were EVERYWHERE.  I.wanted.to.die. Fade into nothing. Disappear. Nothing ever came of it. My RA and Hall Director didn't do a single thing.

I did get a new roommate, but she was just about as terrible. Aside from being the run of the mill, awful roommate- dirty laundry everywhere, puking in our room on top of said laundry, using my things, losing her pants on her drunken way home stumbling into our room naked from the waist down.. she also constantly bullied me. I was a giant, retarded, dyke, ugly, fat. She referred to me as FUPA. Urban dictionary that.. I was going home every single weekend to get away and spend time with my boyfriend. She would always complain that I was so ugly that she couldn't see why my boyfriend would want to be with me and not someone like her. She also killed my bubble eyed goldfish, Nancy. Fortunately, she was expelled by Christmas break

[I am just now realizing how long this is! Thank you so much for reading!]

I did have two different wonderful roommates after that mess followed by two other awful ones that cut me down on the regular.

So now I am now 25 years old.. [almost, almost 26] married to an amazing person, have a pretty great job, a nice little house, we each have our own cars, an awesome dog and I have some wonderful friends. I wish I could tell you that I am not bullied anymore, only surrounded by wonderful, supportive people and proud of my height. Unfortunately that's just not true. I am still cut down almost every day by random people because of my height. My knee pops and crunches with every step I take, reminding me of that fateful day back in 6th grade. And I am randomly consumed with overwhelming sadness. 

Every day is a decision to just keep going and try to make the world a little friendlier. When people cut me down, I remember that I have the POWER to just walk away. I have the POWER to DECIDE how I want to respond to a negative situation. The older I get, the more I am understanding that despite all the education and resources that are available in this world, people are as ignorant as ever. People are always going to confront me needing to know just how tall I am, that I am the biggest woman they have ever seen, how will I ever find a man to marry me, that there is no way I could be a woman because I am so tall. People are just crazy and you need to just keep chugging along. Don't let someone that doesn't even have value in your life define who you are. I am still learning to love myself, I'm a work in progress and I am okay with that.

YOU ARE UNIQUE. YOU ARE STRONG. YOU ARE BRAVE. YOU ARE A F*CKING CHAMPION. 

I am sending you a hug through your computer.

I grew up in a small town with a high school of about 400 kids. It's a little bit easier to keep track of and monitor such a small number of students so I rarely saw physical fights. Overall, it's not a horrible place to be. However, although the type of bullying that is easy to see is at a low level, more subtle bullying still slips through the cracks.

My freshman year a new girl moved to town. I had no history with her and she had no reason to dislike me. I have a very bubbly, outgoing personality. We played on the volleyball team together. We were teammates, but she was a bully. The issue, however, is it's hard to speak up against a bully without any evidence or specific details. She never laid a hand on me. In fact, nearly a decade later I can't ever remember exactly what she did, all I remember is how she made me feel. She criticized me, shot dirty looks and on the bus to and from games she would start arguments and then work me into a corner. She criticized my religion. What hurt the most is that she took other girls with her. Even a girl that had been my best friend in middle school would just sit there with this 'I'm sorry' look in her eye but never stand up to defend me. One night, on the way back from a game, I stopped here and I asked "[Name|, why don't you like me?" I figured if I could I least know how I had wronged her I could either fix it or have some reassurance that it wasn't my fault. Her only reply was "you're too happy." I nodded, said "ok" and walked away. Being "too happy" was not something to be ashamed of and I wasn't going to change that.

Having been raised by a religious family, I hit my knees. Every night I would pray for the Lord to soften her heart and to make things better. After a while of this and not much success, I decided to reevaluate. I remembered that I had been taught to "Love thy enemies [and] bless them that curse you" (Matt 5:44). It also occurred to me that I had no control over anyone's attitude or actions but my own. So, instead of praying for the Lord to soften her heart, I started asking Him to soften mine. I asked Him to help me love her. I asked Him to bless her. I prayed for the other girls who had followed her lead.

This is when I started seeing a change. I have no idea if they're behavior changed that significantly or if the Lord had just carried me through and lightened my burden. Either way, I made it through freshman year.

I did not play volleyball the next year but I did play basketball with the same group of girls and the difference was tremendous. Junior year we all participated in a scholarship pageant together and had a blast, attended a college government camp tha summer after and by senior year it was like freshman year never happened. It's not like we were all best friends. In fact I don't think I ever saw them outside of school. Before graduation one of the girls that had been one of the worst to me wrote an apology in my yearbook. A year or two into college, the girl who had started it all commented on a Facebook photo of mine and told me I was beautiful.

I'm not saying that every story will turn out as good as mine but with the Lord's help it can be made easier. Don't be afraid to speak up. Find a safe place. For me it was the drama room, believe it or not. Those people were my family. Surround yourself with good people. I would suspect that most bullies would be stupid to go after an entire herd. Have a teacher as an ally. So what if you hang out with a teacher at lunch time and become a "teacher's pet"? You'll be safe.

Depression runs through my family. The fact that I am a freshman in high school makes it harder. Who doesn't have problems in high school? I think of myself as the strong one in the family. When I hit bottom then something is really wrong. I have anger management problems so dealing with things in the correct way can be hard. I have two sisters. One is a senior in high school. She hit bottom. She hasn't been in school since Thanksgiving. She is hopefully going back in February. Her depression got her. She wanted to die. Her best friend became her worst nightmare. Her friend called her a whore and had the rumor going around that she was sleeping around but as a matter of a fact, she has been home all day everyday. What was supposed to be her best year, became fifth grade again. That was when she went to the hospital for suicidal thoughts. Gone for weeks and the principal called and asked when my sister would be back. Not in a nice way. My mom was fed up with it and she broke too. Soon the principal resigned and no one really knows why. At least this time we have a man who understands and helps us instead of insisting my sister be back. I guess this isn't really my story but it's a story of one I love and care about. 

During my years in school I had a terrible time. I did get bullied. I had stuff stolen, broken on purpose, had my hair set on fire, had girls rub chewing gum in my hair, was called names, had hate websites set up about me, and what my mum considers to be serious emotional abuse. We tried reporting it to my school and my mother was told that I was too sensitive. I spent years considering whether I should kill myself to end the relentless hurt that I had to endure every day by force because I had to go to school, or whether it was wrong or right to go in and kill someone else. Eventually high school ended and I haven't seen those people since.

Since then my life has still been a little messed up and my mum says it is directly linked to my mistrust of people, even those like me and my want to have people like me. Now I have found my vocation in life, my absolute passion that drives me to get up out of bed every day. I study psychology, and I am currently conducting a long study on homicidal children. I wish to go to University this year and continue psychology, complete a masters and a doctorate and become a clinical psychologist for children that have been bullied or abused, or those that have commited homicide as children, simply because I wish to help those in absolute desperation, while they are only children that cannot understand or rationalize the hurt that the world can bestow upon them. Without the experiences that happened to me, I would not have this passion and to me, would be doing something that I would not have the same amount of determination and passion for. However, I wish nobody to have to be bullied in high school, as this now engulfs my life with every action I have taken since.

Hi, my name is Emma Edwards. I'm 16 years old and live in Des Moines, Iowa. For the past 4 years I've been bullied. It all started in 6th grade. I was called names, kicked in the back, shoved into lockers, and that resulted into getting beaten up by a classmate at the end of the year. My mom even worked at my middle school and kids would go up to her and say things about me to her. 7th grade rolled around and I was still bullied so much that by 8th grade my mom and I decided to switch to the secondary school in my town. 8th grade was good, in a better environment. 18 kids in my grade and things were slowly going well for me. Then, I got the news that the secondary school was getting shut down for my 9th grade year and I would have to go back to the regular high school. I was terrified and did not want to do it. But I was forced to. When I entered Abraham Lincoln High School in Des Moines, all the kids that I used to get bullied by recognized me, and I was an easy target for the new bullies because of the old bullies. I would get bullied EVERY DAY. Called a slut, cunt, whore, worthless, etc. Every name in the book. I was advised to talk to the counselor about it, she talked to me about it but did nothing. She didn't even document it like she was supposed to. I've seen a therapist on the side for 4 years, I've been diagnosed with chronic depression and severe anxiety problems. I finally went to the principal about it. He told me to ignore it at first but I told him I have and that I can't take it anymore. So he told me to not say anything back to the bullies but to document who said what when and to turn it in to him at semester. So I did what was told. My mom has told me my whole life that if anyone hits me to never hit back because we can file charges if it's an assault but we can't if I hit back and it's a fight. In November of 2012, a girl that bullied me beat the life out of me. She punched a teacher out of the way to get to me and then took me by my hair and slammed my face into the concrete tile floor 30 times and gave me a concussion. She got transferred to a different school for hitting the teacher. After coming back from the fight I got told that "the girl should've beat me to death, to go kill myself, no one wants me here, called me a pussy for not hitting back." Towards the end of the year, my gym teacher was picking on a kid who had a growth problem, the boy had talked to me about how he was struggling with it so I stood up for him against the teacher. He then proceeded to call me fat and chubby in front of the whole class, which then my classmates starting laughing. I walked out and told the principal but nothing was done. In fact, I have gym with that teacher yet again this year for my sophomore year. I've struggled with cutting for the past 2 years and proceeded to cut "fat ugly whore" into my stomach. I also cut on my arms and got suspended for it.My mom then decided enough was enough that she is transferring me to a different school in a town 10 minutes from ours where I have friends. We went to the principal at the end of the year to get my bullying documentation and they reported "they lost it." Bullshit. The next day I went into his office when he wasn't there and I found it on his desk. We open enrolled to the Des Moines Public District and they declined. I had been accepted to the school I wanted to go to but my school district wouldn't let me out because of their certain "diversity plan" which favored and helped out minorities. We then appealed and got to speak with 13 other families wanting out. In this case, either all of the families got to go or they all didn't. So they voted and we didn't get let out no matter the circumstances. So we appealed to their decision and my mom hired a 600 dollar lawyer. Yet they declined again. My mom finally gave up but I wasn't going to. I then wrote a letter to our State Board of Education, the school board and the Governor Terry Branstad. At that point I was on the verge of my 4th suicide attempt. They contacted my principal and he talked to me about it and even sent in a letter of recommendation for me. But no, of course not. The school board told me that since I'm white, middle class and not a minority that I won't be let out. So while my parents were working I had written up a speech and went to the school board meeting, got up by myself and spoke out to them in front of them. The state's bullying interventionist, Penny Bisignano, had heard about it and contacted my mom and I. She was appalled by what has happened to me and commended me for sticking up for myself. She then advised me to file a complaint to the Federal Liberal Civil Rights association. That's what we're working on right now. I just don't know how far I have to go to make them listen to me and let me go to a school where I feel safe at. I've tried killing myself 3 times all because of bullying and my school has done nothing about it. After hearing that I'm rebelling, my vice principal set up a "safety plan" for me to see the counselor every day even though I already do. My mom refused to sign it because that's what I'm already doing. During school this year I passed out and had to be escorted out in a wheelchair because I had an anxiety attack from stress. I just don't know what to do to make the Des Moines Public School District to listen to me and let me go to a safe school environment. They are being racist to me and I can't take it anymore. If anyone could help me or my case CONTACT ME AT:

Email: [email protected]

Phone: (515)868-6688

Twitter: @emmerss_

              Thank you so much.

     When my 4th Grade son comes home from school, every day I ask him to tell me at least one thing he learned and on this day, his head fell into his chest and he said, "Mom, what does the word faggot mean?"  I asked him where he heard that word and he said that some kids at school have been calling him that among other names.  After asking him if there was anything else happening that he felt bad or embarrassed about, I learned that while raising this wonderfully loving and caring boy, we never prepared him for a world where kids don't play fair, they aren't nice, they do hit, push, punch, stab and kick and call bad names.  They target some kids and make them afraid to go to school. As a parent, my first instinct is to protect my son and this is why you are reading this story because no child should be afraid to go to school and endure what he has been going through the last 2 years. He needs my help and I need yours to help him.   

When I was in 3rd grade, I moved to a new neighborhood. My first day of class, after my introduction from the teacher, this boy who was sitting next to me said "Go back where you came from, we don;t need you here." and I just stood in shock. I didn't do anything let alone say anything to make him feel this way, so I ignored him. He contented to tell me the school and class was way better before I got there. I was devastated but luckily some nice girls befriended me so I didn't feel so alone. But, I'll never forget what an ugly feeling that was. Being punished for just being myself. 

when i was at the fifth grade i was realy small and an older girl always used to kick my bag wich i really loved until it was destroyed. one day she picked me up and put me in a trash can. i couldnt  even get out and i smelled awfull all the way home..

I'm a girl in 2nd year High School. I am misunderstood and bullied. There are rumors about me. Bad rumors. I was being called a bitch, a slut, any bad term you could use. It hurt. That was last year. Before 2nd year started, I promised to change, to be anti social except for my friends who still stick by me. People remind about the rumors and everything bad and hurtful that has happened to me. They laugh at me. i can't help but get angry or depressed, but my anger turns into tears. I hate myself. I want to die. I don't want to be tormented. Some people treat me badly especially the 3rd and 4th years. They are popular and they think little of me. I wish High School would just end.. But I know it won't and I have been thinking if it would be better if I just end my own life. 

when I was a kid I was always pick on. I couldn't never go outside r school because of the kids even grown-ups.