I was a scared third grader who did not know how to stand up for herself. I was pushed around, make fun of, and I was called probably every single name in the books. Internalizing my feelings only made it worse, and as I entered middle school, I did the only thing that I thought would work. I bullied back. I'm not proud of that, but what I am proud of is my ability to say that as a future teacher, I am attempting to make the world a better place by teaching my students about bullying, how to prevent it, and what to do if they see it happening.

When I was in 7th Grade I was bullied bad like really bad I got choked punched in the face because I was fat I was called a fat turd a gorilla it made me cry when I got home I would just cut myself it had gotten so bad that I wanted to die I cut one of my veins but my mom rushed me to the hospital I couldn't take the bullying anymore I just wanted to quit :( When I went back to school all of the kids called me a emo Girl because they saw my cuts and I thought it was going to get better but it didn't it got worse it makes me cry just writing this I have a Story and I am ready to share it...... It Hurts when you think you have friends that are there for you and when push comes to shove they aren't there that Hurts

I know how bully people feel when they are bullying a person, i have to say its a "nice" feeling. Honestly. But what they dont know is How the other person feels, trust me They will not do it again If they feel how a bullied person feels.

I used to be a bully in Elementary school, until one day in Jr. High school i was the one who got bullied, Wasn't nice. Never did it again and now i hate to see someone get bullied.

a girl said i called her a bitch but it wasn't true so one day around 10 girls surrounded me and didn't want to let me leave. Start to verbal abuse. Fortunately i pushed a girl and got myself out of there, good thing i could get out of there before the physical abuse.

When I went to elementary school things were great, friends were abundant. Fun times were had and peer pressure was non-existent. My parents got divorced some time in the fifth grade and I got very depressed. I stopped hanging out with the kids and that made me different. Middle school and High school came and I was still introverted. That made me a target. I was bullied constantly. I was punched, slapped, called everything in the book, and the friends that I had weren't much help, nor I to them, as we were all getting bullied. I was told by my parents to fight back, but if I did, I was the one that dealt with the consequence of lashing out. I became more confused, lost, and ever more depressed. I turned to drugs and alcohol. At one point, I attempted suicide with a gun that thankfully never fired. I quit school, not because I didn't understand or cared about the material they were teaching, but to just get away from the daily pain.

Since leaving, I was able to recover with therapy, love from my family, and finding and outlet that didn't involved drugs or alcohol. I got married, have a beautiful son, and am in college looking to get a degree in Wildlife Biology. Life is hard, but WAY better.

I feel sorry for kids today. I give anything to stop the hurt of out kids and the bullying they endure. All I can say is that bullied kids become stronger later in life than the ones do the bullying. I hate that fact, but I'm stronger today than I ever was in school. I made it through the most difficulty time in my young life. Which allows me to see that I can endure most anything. 

Hang in there kids. I promise you, life gets better. WAY BETTER!!!

When I was younger, I had a friend who is actually still my friend, who was friends with this girl. This girl was nice to me and she invited my and my friend to her house every now and then. I mean you know everything was good. Do we started talking on Facebook and you know we had a few normal conversations. Then all of a sudden she started being rude and saying things like "eww your hair looked nasty today" and I thought she was just being honest, so I tried to change a little. Things got worse. She started threatening me. At the time my mom was in the hospital, and this girl started saying that she hoped my mom would die. I had no idea what to do. Next thing I knew she was turning my friend against me. Now later on maybe a few months later, my dog got hit by a truck. So I called my friends phone sobbing, and the other girl answered. I told her to hand the phone to my friend, she said that she wouldn't unless I told her what I was going to say. So even though I didn't want to, I did. She told me my friend wasn't going to care but she did as she promised and handed my friend the phone. I explained what happened, and my friend told me exactly what the girl said she would, my friend told me she didn't care. I hung up and threw my phone at the wall. I couldn't take it. She even threatened my cousin. I didn't know what I did wrong. I talked to a few people after she stopped bullying me and it took a while for me to figure out that it wasn't my fault. And just this year at homecoming she asked me why u didn't like her. To this day I harm myself for her actions from 2 years ago. I still need therapy. Your actions can cause permanent pain, damage. I don't understand how people can do what she did to me. I have classes with her and I want to cry every time I walk past her. It's not okay that schools say that they will stop bullying in the school. Because as much as I wish that was true, it's not.

This is my story of what I went through, what I have overcome and what has shaped me into the person I am today.

It all started long ago back before I could even talk. There had been abuse in my family. My real father Merle was the beginning of it all. At least for my part. All the stories of my father are bad, there isn't one good one. You see when I wasn't even born yet and i was still inside my mother, everyone one of my dad’s sides thought i was going to be a boy. They were making plans on who I was going to be when i grew up. But my mom knew better. She knew I was going to be a girl and kept trying to tell them this but they wouldn't listen... You see woman were thought of nothing but only a couple of uses. 1 to do the cooking and cleaning 2 for being in a mans bed. That's it nothing more but so much less...

So when I was born I was huge disappointment to them, I wouldn't be able to carry on the family name. They didn't want to even acknowledge me. But as the days and weeks went by my dad use to beat my mom, there was a time when she was holding me tightly and my father beat her to the ground with a phone. She always protected me from him. That side of the family for some reason tried to get custody of me kept calling the police on my mother saying she was a horrible mom and would throw wild party and would let guys have their way with me. Long ago on Friday the 13th my mom won custody of me, we like joke about how it’s our lucky day.. But they were quickly proven wrong and soon the divorce was final and my mom moved in with my family that i know today.

After we went to live with my grandparents my mom found Rick and quickly married him, but there was no love in that relationship. They really only married to change my last night and to get away from my real father. But with the court system back in the day my mom actually had to adopt me. But time went by and Rick only became another bad memory. I know he hurt my mom, I remember her crying a lot. The only memory I have of him clearly is going to McDonald and opening a present which was a Barbie bike and then we went to Holland park where I got to play with my uncle who was the supervisor of our visits. I remember him always smelling of cigarettes, bad yellow teeth and curly black hair. But that was the last of it.

But growing up I remember getting into trouble but I don't really remember what for. But I remember getting beating over the ass with wooden spoon till it broke and then she would go get another one till that one broke and eventually she upgraded to metal spoon. There were days and nights when I could sit down or sleep on my back because I hurt so badly. Then there was my grandfather who used to smack me with his big bear paws.

But my story really begins in kindergarten. I went to a public school in Guildford, and my teacher let us what power rangers. Watching power rangers was a big no no in my family household. But no matter how much my family protested nothing was done about it. Well back then my favorite color was pink still is pink though. But there was the pink power ranger, I thought she was really pretty and I wanted to be just like her. So in school we would play power rangers. or more like it was the other kids who would play power rangers. I was too ugly to tall just not power ranger material. so if I got to play I was always the bad person who always got "killed".  In the end I remember them pushing me into the dirt, pulling my hair, pushing my face into the ground. And well I also use to get pinned in the tires because I was in jail and then laughed at by everyone. There was one day I wanted to look pretty so I wore a dress, and well that was the last day I wore a dress for the rest of the year because the kids pushed me into the mud and I skinned my knees and elbows. Another time we have our buddies come and do face painting with us, and well I was told I could be the pink ranger is I didn't put too much onto my face... so I made a pink hat and got my face painted and I thought I was good, but the girl beside me told me I had too much on my face and there’s no way I could ever be her, I’m too ugly. By then I learned not to let my emotions show too much. So I just put on a smile for the rest of the day, and when I went home to my Guildford home I walked into the upstairs bathroom and cried as I washed my face paint off.

After that I was transferred into a private school.

Grade 1-2 were pretty good.

Grade 3 we were in French class and there was a activity  were we could all get out of our desks and go around in a circle on our hands and knees. I happen to still be sitting my chair not wanting to get dirty, and J came around with a pencil in his hand and I’ll never forget this because I still have the scar on my right hand. He stabbed my hand with his pencil and the pencil went deep into my hand. The led tip ended up breaking off in my hand, he then looked at me and laughed and told me I should be crawling on the floor like a animal. I sat there in shock not knowing what to do. The blood poured from my hand onto the floor, I wasn't able to say a word. As soon as my teacher saw my hand I was rushed to the nurse where my hand was examined, the lead was taken out and I was sent away with a sucker and was to ask to not speak of it again. In the back of our school there was a jungle gym it was called the “lobster trap.” There would always be a battle to get onto this thing; there were many times where I would be shoved off because I wasn’t cool enough to be on the “lobster trap,” so I resorted to sitting by the walls of the school waiting for the days to be over.

Grade 4 is where the boys began to bug me more. I would often be caught in the middle of being pushed back & forth from one person to the next. The boys loved to trip me; the girls like to chuck gravel at my face. A couple of times I had some kids come up to me and say, “I don't like you. I wish you were never born. “So I learned quickly to play in the woods. That was my home my peace my sanctuary. The woods were where I was free; I built forts and traded chestnuts for wood. But then I graduated to grade 5.

Grade 5 is when things started to became worse. There was this nice day in the field and everyone from my grade was playing soccer and I wanted to play as well, so I joined in. No one would pass me the ball no one who even acknowledge I was there until J kicked the ball at my face and hit me square on. I tried to laugh it off as I tried to get off the ground. He told me to stay down that’s were dirty dogs belonged. He pushed his foot down on my shoulder and pinned me down and pushed his dirty shoe into my shoulder. Soon I tried to skip p.e as much as I could because all I ever was, was target practice. Especially dodge ball was the worse it didn't matter where I was id always get hit in the head, stomach or in the back. I could be sitting on the side lines and I could see the others looking at me and throwing straight for me.  I’d come home with bruises, that’s how I would get in more trouble with my mom because I would steal her make up to cover up everything that was happening to me. Often I would come home every night hide up in my room and cry till I either passed out or until I felt I had no tears left. And so every time in p.e whether it would be volleyball, soccer, baseball or anything involving a ball I would run away from it all. But I guess the teacher never thought much of me always getting hurt, because I was always getting hurt and always being forced to play.

Grade 6 there was a time when I was sitting inside doing my art home work when the girls decided to come up to me and one stood in front of my desk another sat on the edge of my desk and the two other girls leaned on either side of me. The one girl standing leaned over top of my desk and grabbed my picture and held it up to the light and just laughed at it. I tried to grab it back from her but I was pushed down by the girls on either side of me. The girl holding my picture gave it to the girl sitting on my desk and she began to tear it up. I tried to grab the picture but the two girl beside me pushed me off my chair and kicked me in the stomach and left laughing. These girls would often come from behind me on the stairs and give me a helping hand as they like to say, where then I would fall down the stairs. I would often be cornered at lunch and I’d be promptly be rewarded with being grabbed by the hair and my face getting smashed into the side of brick wall or pushed into the fence and punched in the stomach. There was J who once choked me by pulling my hoodie over my head and tying the strings together, this caused the zipper to sink itself into part of my neck. There was a small crowd around me when this happened who did nothing to help, they just stood there and laughed and called me ugly.

Grade 7 I would often try and hide in the library, but they would still find me.  The same girls who had smashed my face into a wall, must have told the other boys about me being an easy target I guess. So this lead to me being harassed on a daily bases needless to say I was shoved, pushed, had rocks, erasers, pencils, pens, just random objects were thrown at me. I was around 5'8" and was always asked by teachers to take stuff down or help with anything tall, so I then was always called the teacher’s pet. I was pushed off the school stage, teased about my clothing and made fun of being my best friend died. Her name was shadow and she was a dog. I was hiding out in the library reading a book when some boys came in, they saw I was reading a book and in the name it said shadow. They commented on it as said “oh just like that dead dog.” They had met shadow and knew she was the kindest most well behaved dog but she was my one weakness.  So for the rest of the year they would always make remarks about her being dead just so they could see me cry. In the summer time I was invited out by the cool kids and thought my life was going to change. It was a Christmas in July party and I was so excited to go. But when I got there I was completely ignored and when I was spoken to I was being talked down to. Just always being told I was worthless, and I was taking up there breathing space.  Needless to say I called my mom’s boyfriend at the time and he came and got me.

This was the time I met a girl name Tara. I thought she was one of the prettiest girls I ever met. But she had a very dark secret, her father use to beat and rape her. And when I went over there I would as well get smacked around. But not that many people know is I watched her die. I held her that night when she took her own life. I had called for the ambulance but it was too late when they arrived. So from that night I changed I didn’t let anyone ever see what I really felt. I decided to close myself off to everyone around me.

Grade 8 I was put into counseling and some of these people didn't know what the hell they were talking about half the time. I was the victim and I was treated like it was my fault. I was repeatedly told by students that I should just go somewhere and die, because my life was over. Repeatedly being told these things, just made me more depressed. I even had a male student beat the crap out of me in front of my locker; I tried to crawl into the girl’s bathroom to escape, and ended up wedging my back against the wall and covering my head. I kept screaming at the top of my lungs till for help till one of my fellow classmates came and pulled him off. After this incident I went even farther into myself, I had no confidence in myself, no confidence in the people that were teachers or principals at the school and no confidence in my counselors. But I did meet my first boyfriend. He was older and I thought I was special.

But soon things turned bad, and when I did get the chance to see him things were never right. I refused to give myself to him, so he would always try and grab me. There was one day were I was walking home with a guy friend and he saw this. I made it home and saw him waiting by my door; he quickly pushed me inside where he began to slap me and kick me in the ribs and in the legs till I couldn’t stand anymore. And once he was satisfied that I wouldn’t see my friend anymore he left me. We were together on and off for 7-8 months, he lived far away and would come for a week every month to see me. But he always told me he had people watching me, which was true because at that time of my life there was always someone watching my every move. And everything would be reported back to him. One day when he was visiting and he got mad at me, the reason he was mad at me this time was because I gave my guy friend a hug. He thought I was cheating on him, so he took me behind my old apartment building and beat me till I became unconscious. I later woke up and made my way into my house and a couple weeks later I finally got help to get rid of him for good.

Grade 9 I entered high school. Again I stayed a lot of the time in library trying to hide from everyone. But when that bell rang to switch classes someone would always find me. I’d often be pinned in the washroom either beaten with a broom or my head would get stuck in a toilet and the girls would hold my face in the water till I barely moved. A lot of the time I would be pushed down the stairs and thrown into a wall or locker. I still tried to avoid P.E. and I always changed in a bathroom stall, if I didn’t I would always be laughed at for my body. I was told I was fat & ugly and no guy would ever like me, but if you gave it up to these certain guys you could be popular just like the rest of us. There were 6 different times where I was pulled from the girls change room and pushed into the boy’s room with hardly any clothes on. And once I was in the boy’s room I would be passed around from one guy to the next. They would try to touch and grab me but I would scream until someone came. They would often find me hiding underneath the sinks crawled into a ball hiding myself from others.

Grade 10 was the year I acted out. In the summer time a family friend hit me right across the face and pushed me in the lake and held me down till I stopped struggling.  Then school started there was a hike we all as a class were to go on. We began the hike, it started off okay I was talking with a couple of my guy friends. Then from nowhere a couple of girls came from behind and pushed me down the down and as I was on the ground they stepped on me and told me I was in the way. Every girl took their time giving me a kick as they either stepped on me or walked past me.

October I was seeing my on and off boyfriend D, and we were over at his house and we were playing around and he pinned me down and held my wrists with his knees and wrapped his arms around my necked. I remember waking up to him kicking me. He then proceeded to grab me by the hair and try and drag me. I kicked and screamed but no one was home. He finally stopped when I pretended to pass out, then he got up and left for a bit. I then walked to the washroom after a couple of minutes and cleaned up the blood from my face and the cuts on my arms. He then came into the bathroom where he saw me and apologized for what he did. I took the apology and forgave me; I thought this was normal relationship. The abuse continued. He would often push me down the stairs, pull me by my hair and try and strangle me. There was this one time where he did take an exacto knife to my side, as well as he had hit me over the head with a wooden bat. He would always tell me I was worthless, and would not account to anything in life.

Grade 11 was one of the worst and the best times of my high school. It was the year I hit rock bottom. You see I still continued to date my on and off boyfriend and things got out of control. His beatings became worse and worse by the month, there was this one time when he decided to bind my hands and legs and tie me up behind a car and drag me. Luckily a neighbor saw this and before we could leave his block the neighbor stopped him and cut me loose. I had a road rash along my back and my legs. We stopped speaking for a while, but in time I forgave him and we I guess became friends. There was this one girl from grade1-11 who always would push me down the stairs, slam me into lockers, pull my hair, and make jokes about my body in front of everyone. She was also the main girl who started everything. There was one day I was walking up to my locker upstairs to put my books away, where she came up from behind and slammed me into the locker. I then tweaked and took her face and slammed into the locker. I will never forget the look on her face, the look of shock and horror. From that day on she never bothered me again.

July was one month I will never forget. That was the month I met K. He was all sweet and kind at first. He even asked me to marry him. But that was all an act, within 2 weeks I saw the real side of him. He forced me to have sex with him. We were alone and he pushed me into his room and pulled on his bed and with all his weight on me, he tied my arms together and then spread my legs apart. I tried to fight him off, but I ended up giving up because there was nothing I could do. A week later I went to go see him, I wasn’t sure if he used anything or not so I was scared to get pregnant so I went and asked him. But when I asked him he punched me very hard in the stomach which made me fall to my knees where he kicked me and pulled me by the hair into the bedroom were raped me again. I later did find out he was using protection.

I have never been able to look at myself the same way since. I then tried to kill myself a couple days after this happened but my mom caught me and we had a long talk about life and we agreed that I should keep on living because there are people who do care for me, and life can only get better. It takes more to keep leaving then to give up and waste it all away. I wouldn’t let those people win.

Grade 12 started off with getting a restraining on an old friend turned stalker. But other than that no one paid much attention to me. If they did try and push me around I would fight back. I got into a lot of fights in grade 12. I refused to take crap from anyone. I graduated with my friends in 06 and couldn’t be any happier to get out of that place. But you know the bullying never ends, no matter where you go there will always be someone who thinks they are better then you.

Since I graduated I have been in a couple rough relationships. There was one guy who pushed me out of a moving car and tried to run over me. Another one proceeded to force himself on me. Then another who always talked down to me and closed a hot oven door on my arm which has left a scar.

But now I am a survivor, I am 25 years old and I have true friends that never leave my side and I have found the love of my life. I have a great support system behind me and I know I couldn't have gotten through my life if it wasn't for my family!

Its either we choose to give up or we stand up and fight. I chose in the end to fight my way through. Yes i did become the bully at one point but that was because no one would listen to me. I did what i had to do.

This is my story of what I went through, what I have overcome and what has shaped me into the person I am today.

It all started long ago back before I could even talk. There had been abuse in my family. My real father Merle was the beginning of it all. At least for my part. All the stories of my father are bad, there isn't one good one. You see when I wasn't even born yet and i was still inside my mother, everyone one of my dad’s sides thought i was going to be a boy. They were making plans on who I was going to be when i grew up. But my mom knew better. She knew I was going to be a girl and kept trying to tell them this but they wouldn't listen... You see woman were thought of nothing but only a couple of uses. 1 to do the cooking and cleaning 2 for being in a mans bed. That's it nothing more but so much less...

So when I was born I was huge disappointment to them, I wouldn't be able to carry on the family name. They didn't want to even acknowledge me. But as the days and weeks went by my dad use to beat my mom, there was a time when she was holding me tightly and my father beat her to the ground with a phone. She always protected me from him. That side of the family for some reason tried to get custody of me kept calling the police on my mother saying she was a horrible mom and would throw wild party and would let guys have their way with me. Long ago on Friday the 13th my mom won custody of me, we like joke about how it’s our lucky day.. But they were quickly proven wrong and soon the divorce was final and my mom moved in with my family that i know today.

After we went to live with my grandparents my mom found Rick and quickly married him, but there was no love in that relationship. They really only married to change my last night and to get away from my real father. But with the court system back in the day my mom actually had to adopt me. But time went by and Rick only became another bad memory. I know he hurt my mom, I remember her crying a lot. The only memory I have of him clearly is going to McDonald and opening a present which was a Barbie bike and then we went to Holland park where I got to play with my uncle who was the supervisor of our visits. I remember him always smelling of cigarettes, bad yellow teeth and curly black hair. But that was the last of it.

But growing up I remember getting into trouble but I don't really remember what for. But I remember getting beating over the ass with wooden spoon till it broke and then she would go get another one till that one broke and eventually she upgraded to metal spoon. There were days and nights when I could sit down or sleep on my back because I hurt so badly. Then there was my grandfather who used to smack me with his big bear paws.

But my story really begins in kindergarten. I went to a public school in Guildford, and my teacher let us what power rangers. Watching power rangers was a big no no in my family household. But no matter how much my family protested nothing was done about it. Well back then my favorite color was pink still is pink though. But there was the pink power ranger, I thought she was really pretty and I wanted to be just like her. So in school we would play power rangers. or more like it was the other kids who would play power rangers. I was too ugly to tall just not power ranger material. so if I got to play I was always the bad person who always got "killed".  In the end I remember them pushing me into the dirt, pulling my hair, pushing my face into the ground. And well I also use to get pinned in the tires because I was in jail and then laughed at by everyone. There was one day I wanted to look pretty so I wore a dress, and well that was the last day I wore a dress for the rest of the year because the kids pushed me into the mud and I skinned my knees and elbows. Another time we have our buddies come and do face painting with us, and well I was told I could be the pink ranger is I didn't put too much onto my face... so I made a pink hat and got my face painted and I thought I was good, but the girl beside me told me I had too much on my face and there’s no way I could ever be her, I’m too ugly. By then I learned not to let my emotions show too much. So I just put on a smile for the rest of the day, and when I went home to my Guilford home I walked into the upstairs bathroom and cried as I washed my face paint off.

After that I was transferred into a private school.

Grade 1-2 were pretty good.

Grade 3 we were in French class and there was a activity  were we could all get out of our desks and go around in a circle on our hands and knees. I happen to still be sitting my chair not wanting to get dirty, and J came around with a pencil in his hand and I’ll never forget this because I still have the scar on my right hand. He stabbed my hand with his pencil and the pencil went deep into my hand. The led tip ended up breaking off in my hand, he then looked at me and laughed and told me I should be crawling on the floor like a animal. I sat there in shock not knowing what to do. The blood poured from my hand onto the floor, I wasn't able to say a word. As soon as my teacher saw my hand I was rushed to the nurse where my hand was examined, the lead was taken out and I was sent away with a sucker and was to ask to not speak of it again. In the back of our school there was a jungle gym it was called the “lobster trap.” There would always be a battle to get onto this thing; there were many times where I would be shoved off because I wasn’t cool enough to be on the “lobster trap,” so I resorted to sitting by the walls of the school waiting for the days to be over.

Grade 4 is where the boys began to bug me more. I would often be caught in the middle of being pushed back & forth from one person to the next. The boys loved to trip me; the girls like to chuck gravel at my face. A couple of times I had some kids come up to me and say, “I don't like you. I wish you were never born. “So I learned quickly to play in the woods. That was my home my peace my sanctuary. The woods were where I was free; I built forts and traded chestnuts for wood. But then I graduated to grade 5.

Grade 5 is when things started to became worse. There was this nice day in the field and everyone from my grade was playing soccer and I wanted to play as well, so I joined in. No one would pass me the ball no one who even acknowledge I was there until J kicked the ball at my face and hit me square on. I tried to laugh it off as I tried to get off the ground. He told me to stay down that’s were dirty dogs belonged. He pushed his foot down on my shoulder and pinned me down and pushed his dirty shoe into my shoulder. Soon I tried to skip p.e as much as I could because all I ever was, was target practice. Especially dodge ball was the worse it didn't matter where I was id always get hit in the head, stomach or in the back. I could be sitting on the side lines and I could see the others looking at me and throwing straight for me.  I’d come home with bruises, that’s how I would get in more trouble with my mom because I would steal her make up to cover up everything that was happening to me. Often I would come home every night hide up in my room and cry till I either passed out or until I felt I had no tears left. And so every time in p.e whether it would be volleyball, soccer, baseball or anything involving a ball I would run away from it all. But I guess the teacher never thought much of me always getting hurt, because I was always getting hurt and always being forced to play.

Grade 6 there was a time when I was sitting inside doing my art home work when the girls decided to come up to me and one stood in front of my desk another sat on the edge of my desk and the two other girls leaned on either side of me. The one girl standing leaned over top of my desk and grabbed my picture and held it up to the light and just laughed at it. I tried to grab it back from her but I was pushed down by the girls on either side of me. The girl holding my picture gave it to the girl sitting on my desk and she began to tear it up. I tried to grab the picture but the two girl beside me pushed me off my chair and kicked me in the stomach and left laughing. These girls would often come from behind me on the stairs and give me a helping hand as they like to say, where then I would fall down the stairs. I would often be cornered at lunch and I’d be promptly be rewarded with being grabbed by the hair and my face getting smashed into the side of brick wall or pushed into the fence and punched in the stomach. There was J who once choked me by pulling my hoodie over my head and tying the strings together, this caused the zipper to sink itself into part of my neck. There was a small crowd around me when this happened who did nothing to help, they just stood there and laughed and called me ugly.

Grade 7 I would often try and hide in the library, but they would still find me.  The same girls who had smashed my face into a wall, must have told the other boys about me being an easy target I guess. So this lead to me being harassed on a daily bases needless to say I was shoved, pushed, had rocks, erasers, pencils, pens, just random objects were thrown at me. I was around 5'8" and was always asked by teachers to take stuff down or help with anything tall, so I then was always called the teacher’s pet. I was pushed off the school stage, teased about my clothing and made fun of being my best friend died. Her name was shadow and she was a dog. I was hiding out in the library reading a book when some boys came in, they saw I was reading a book and in the name it said shadow. They commented on it as said “oh just like that dead dog.” They had met shadow and knew she was the kindest most well behaved dog but she was my one weakness.  So for the rest of the year they would always make remarks about her being dead just so they could see me cry. In the summer time I was invited out by the cool kids and thought my life was going to change. It was a Christmas in July party and I was so excited to go. But when I got there I was completely ignored and when I was spoken to I was being talked down to. Just always being told I was worthless, and I was taking up there breathing space.  Needless to say I called my mom’s boyfriend at the time and he came and got me.

This was the time I met a girl name Tara. I thought she was one of the prettiest girls I ever met. But she had a very dark secret, her father use to beat and rape her. And when I went over there I would as well get smacked around. But not that many people know is I watched her die. I held her that night when she took her own life. I had called for the ambulance but it was too late when they arrived. So from that night I changed I didn’t let anyone ever see what I really felt. I decided to close myself off to everyone around me.

Grade 8 I was put into counseling and some of these people didn't know what the hell they were talking about half the time. I was the victim and I was treated like it was my fault. I was repeatedly told by students that I should just go somewhere and die, because my life was over. Repeatedly being told these things, just made me more depressed. I even had a male student beat the crap out of me in front of my locker; I tried to crawl into the girl’s bathroom to escape, and ended up wedging my back against the wall and covering my head. I kept screaming at the top of my lungs till for help till one of my fellow classmates came and pulled him off. After this incident I went even farther into myself, I had no confidence in myself, no confidence in the people that were teachers or principals at the school and no confidence in my counselors. But I did meet my first boyfriend. He was older and I thought I was special.

But soon things turned bad, and when I did get the chance to see him things were never right. I refused to give myself to him, so he would always try and grab me. There was one day were I was walking home with a guy friend and he saw this. I made it home and saw him waiting by my door; he quickly pushed me inside where he began to slap me and kick me in the ribs and in the legs till I couldn’t stand anymore. And once he was satisfied that I wouldn’t see my friend anymore he left me. We were together on and off for 7-8 months, he lived far away and would come for a week every month to see me. But he always told me he had people watching me, which was true because at that time of my life there was always someone watching my every move. And everything would be reported back to him. One day when he was visiting and he got mad at me, the reason he was mad at me this time was because I gave my guy friend a hug. He thought I was cheating on him, so he took me behind my old apartment building and beat me till I became unconscious. I later woke up and made my way into my house and a couple weeks later I finally got help to get rid of him for good.

Grade 9 I entered high school. Again I stayed a lot of the time in library trying to hide from everyone. But when that bell rang to switch classes someone would always find me. I’d often be pinned in the washroom either beaten with a broom or my head would get stuck in a toilet and the girls would hold my face in the water till I barely moved. A lot of the time I would be pushed down the stairs and thrown into a wall or locker. I still tried to avoid P.E. and I always changed in a bathroom stall, if I didn’t I would always be laughed at for my body. I was told I was fat & ugly and no guy would ever like me, but if you gave it up to these certain guys you could be popular just like the rest of us. There were 6 different times where I was pulled from the girls change room and pushed into the boy’s room with hardly any clothes on. And once I was in the boy’s room I would be passed around from one guy to the next. They would try to touch and grab me but I would scream until someone came. They would often find me hiding underneath the sinks crawled into a ball hiding myself from others.

Grade 10 was the year I acted out. In the summer time a family friend hit me right across the face and pushed me in the lake and held me down till I stopped struggling.  Then school started there was a hike we all as a class were to go on. We began the hike, it started off okay I was talking with a couple of my guy friends. Then from nowhere a couple of girls came from behind and pushed me down the down and as I was on the ground they stepped on me and told me I was in the way. Every girl took their time giving me a kick as they either stepped on me or walked past me.

October I was seeing my on and off boyfriend D, and we were over at his house and we were playing around and he pinned me down and held my wrists with his knees and wrapped his arms around my necked. I remember waking up to him kicking me. He then proceeded to grab me by the hair and try and drag me. I kicked and screamed but no one was home. He finally stopped when I pretended to pass out, then he got up and left for a bit. I then walked to the washroom after a couple of minutes and cleaned up the blood from my face and the cuts on my arms. He then came into the bathroom where he saw me and apologized for what he did. I took the apology and forgave me; I thought this was normal relationship. The abuse continued. He would often push me down the stairs, pull me by my hair and try and strangle me. There was this one time where he did take an exacto knife to my side, as well as he had hit me over the head with a wooden bat. He would always tell me I was worthless, and would not account to anything in life.

Grade 11 was one of the worst and the best times of my high school. It was the year I hit rock bottom. You see I still continued to date my on and off boyfriend and things got out of control. His beatings became worse and worse by the month, there was this one time when he decided to bind my hands and legs and tie me up behind a car and drag me. Luckily a neighbor saw this and before we could leave his block the neighbor stopped him and cut me loose. I had a road rash along my back and my legs. We stopped speaking for a while, but in time I forgave him and we I guess became friends. There was this one girl from grade1-11 who always would push me down the stairs, slam me into lockers, pull my hair, and make jokes about my body in front of everyone. She was also the main girl who started everything. There was one day I was walking up to my locker upstairs to put my books away, where she came up from behind and slammed me into the locker. I then tweaked and took her face and slammed into the locker. I will never forget the look on her face, the look of shock and horror. From that day on she never bothered me again.

July was one month I will never forget. That was the month I met K. He was all sweet and kind at first. He even asked me to marry him. But that was all an act, within 2 weeks I saw the real side of him. He forced me to have sex with him. We were alone and he pushed me into his room and pulled on his bed and with all his weight on me, he tied my arms together and then spread my legs apart. I tried to fight him off, but I ended up giving up because there was nothing I could do. A week later I went to go see him, I wasn’t sure if he used anything or not so I was scared to get pregnant so I went and asked him. But when I asked him he punched me very hard in the stomach which made me fall to my knees where he kicked me and pulled me by the hair into the bedroom were raped me again. I later did find out he was using protection.

I have never been able to look at myself the same way since. I then tried to kill myself a couple days after this happened but my mom caught me and we had a long talk about life and we agreed that I should keep on living because there are people who do care for me, and life can only get better. It takes more to keep leaving then to give up and waste it all away. I wouldn’t let those people win.

Grade 12 started off with getting a restraining on an old friend turned stalker. But other than that no one paid much attention to me. If they did try and push me around I would fight back. I got into a lot of fights in grade 12. I refused to take crap from anyone. I graduated with my friends in 06 and couldn’t be any happier to get out of that place. But you know the bullying never ends, no matter where you go there will always be someone who thinks they are better then you.

Since I graduated I have been in a couple rough relationships. There was one guy who pushed me out of a moving car and tried to run over me. Another one proceeded to force himself on me. Then another who always talked down to me and closed a hot oven door on my arm which has left a scar.

When I was a child, I felt like an outsider.  I've seen people come into my life and then, vanish into thin air.  They included both friends and family.  Beginning high school, it was a weird transition for me.  On one hand, I was doing great in school and completely engrossed in my studies.  On the other hand, I isolated myself from any social interaction.  I looked at life systematically, instead of being open and free with it.  Later on though, I was able to make the transition from introversion to semi-introversion.  I sought the comfort of friends for support and normalcy.  But, some people in high school were able to exploit my insecurities and utilize them to appeal to their own vices of bullying.  Exploited for my frailness and my unwillingness to defend myself, I was bullied.  It put the fear inside me.  To ignore the pain, I forced a smile on my face and waited for somebody to come to my aid.  Nobody ever did.  I felt frozen in time, while everybody else seemed to be living each day to the fullest.  I left my senior year in high school feeling incomplete.  But, I mustered every bit of hope and came to the assumption that my college experience would be different.  I was wrong.  During my first night at the suite with my new suitemates, I was handcuffed to the couch and forced to beg for my release.  I was thrown around like a rag doll.  People told me that I was weak and not worthy of life.  I was embarrassed to confide in anyone about my troubles.  I pretended that my college experience was what I dreamed of rather than what reality actually provided for me.  I realized that the problem was me.  

You must understand you're not alone.  I've resolved my problems.  I overcame a life once built by insecurities and confusion.  I channeled my negative energy through basketball and running.  I learned to love again.  And for once, I feel in control.  I'm here to answer any questions and help those who are in need of a friend.  

WARNING: Contains VIOLENCE is in the story

NOT WHAT IT SEEMS

Since I was in kindergarten, I already experienced bullying, calling names such as “gay” and being judged.  The bullying lasts for 12 years, it ended when I graduated from high school. Being bullied for 12 straight years destroyed my life-physically, socially, emotionally, and spiritually. They keep calling me “gay” but I know to myself that I’m straight. It leads me to a severe depression, it also made me a suicidal-I attempted to finish my life 4 times, but they failed- and the more they bullied me, the more anger and hatred I feel to myself and to those who bullied me. Sometimes, I want to fight back-smash their heads to the wall or sometimes kill them- even though I knew it was wrong, I want to do it but I can’t do it.

Someone told me just let them bullied you and try to find their weak point- because the reason why bullies bullied people is because they are covering their main weak point that may destroy them, putting a big barrier which makes them stronger outside, but in the inside they are softer like a marshmallow-which I did, I let them bullied me but at the same time I study them. There is a one girl in my class who keep bullying me physically and verbally and I have just got enough with her foolishness so I said that I’ll rape her if she didn’t stop and she didn’t, so I unbutton my polo and grab her arms tightly and look in to her eyes evilly and she started to cry like a baby, I just let her cry in the corner with her friends and I give her time to think about her foolishness. In the following day she and her friends doesn’t speak to me, and I also have a guilt inside and asked myself “Why on earth I did that?” but I have to conceal my guilt and ironically the half of the class thinks I’m a monster which the half on the class is real monsters and I told God “What the hell? Why me? I am the victim here.”  

When I reached my senior year in high school, I’ve been put to a worst class section ever where there are a lot of gangsters. Two or three months later after the first day of school, my nightmare is showing up again, as expected they bullied me physically but more verbally. I just accepted it as my karma for what I’ve done last year. So they bullied me and I cry- crying is my way of expressing my anger instead of being violent- and asked God for wisdom and I told him “God I will not fight them back this time, because vengeance is yours not mine (let’s just respect on what I’ve believed in).” So I let them bullied me, do whatever foolish thing they want, but it pays off, I have now a wonderful life in college, I’m starting to meet my real friend, studying in a well-known university and there’s no one bullying me anymore, and I have a wonderful girlfriend which is my daily inspiration to work hard on my studies.

So MY tips for the BULLIES is that you have a day that you will pay for your crimes so be ready, and for those people who’ve been BULLIED is to stand up, know the right thing, trust in God (if you are a Christian), don’t mind their foolishness, and don’t ever let anger and hatred controls/blinded you for it will destroy you and those people surrounds you.

 

 

 And I'm 19 years old Male from Philippines (2013)

(12/10/2013:1210AM PST)

*sorry for some wrong grammar >_<

I know my story is nothing like most of the ones here - it may seem like an alright life compares to some. I guess it all started in year 9. I'm the oldest of four children, and the only girl. I love Superheroes and Transformers and have short hair that I streak with purple and blue. I'm always reading and writing. I hope to be a published author one day. But last year, I gradually lost interest in reading and writing. You see, there were thes girls in the class - the ones who though they were all that and you were the dirt they walked over - who thought I and my group of friends were prime targets. Me and my friends are all social rejects that kinda decided to stick together. Anyway, the other girls weren't overly bad, just the subtle name calling and mockery that, on occasion, escalated to yelling at us from across the designated eating area. I was struggling through some personal troubles at well. You see, out of me and my three brothers, I'm the academic one. Connor's the sporty one, Brandon's a special needs kid and Beau the adorable eight year old who gets whatever he wants. What was hitting me hard was that I was struggling and failing Math. Mum was okay with it - she was happy as long as my effort mark was up there - but Dad made it clear he wasn't happy. Suddenly, I went from being his perfect angel to being a selfish, idiotic, lazy girl who was never going to amount to anything. So, I found myself stressed and starting arguing more with certain teachers. But the mean girls decided I was the perfect target for them. It was the start of spring ans the weather was warming up nicely, but I had started scratching my arm with Lego. Anyway, I was wearing long sleeves and apparently that instantly meant I was emo. So my previous reputation of being a geek changed to me being emo. Wow... This is long. I started cutting my thighs not long after that rumor. I grew sick of everything - my Dad, kids at school, myself. I hated how I looked with cuts and scars - I still do - and wanted it all to just end. I also felt guilty, because my life is soo easy compared to so many other lives. I was going to end it - I was so weak - until a teacher who I am extremely close sat down next to me. He could see I was upset - I was reading a particularly abusive email and was on the verge of crying. I had woken up that morning and hear Dad complaining to Mum about me. I also happened to be wearing shorts and had recently cut a little further down my thigh then usual. He helped me through a lot. He became my go to person. It's never really faded - the urge to cut - but I know if I need to talk, he's there. I also graduated from that school - it only goes to 10 - and left with some strong friendships. And I'm here. For anyone who needs to talk too.

I am 36 years old and this story happened during the summer between 5th and 6th grades for me.  

 

I was an active kid and always a bit scrawny.  I played a lot of sports...I wasn't great, but i could usually hold my own.  Except in basketball.  I only played one season and still think back on it with anything but fond memories.  I knew I wasn't very good---my playing time told me that.  I would have been fine having tried it and not liking it, except for a teammate who lived down the street.  Grant was a year older than me and already in middle school.  He'd ride his bike down a half mile or so every couple days with his friends to let me know that I was the reason we didn't do well, or lost games, or didn't win the championship.   

 

I think his disdain for me started growing more and more.  Soon he started talking about how he and his friends were going to give me a swirly on the first day of school.  A swirly is when you hold someone's head in the toilet and flush it.  It might sound silly now, but it was harrowing at the time.  My parents would go on walks downtown every night and I would have to go with them.  One time I saw them riding their bikes towards us all the way down the street and I wanted nothing more than to disappear and be anywhere else.  It wasn't until they rode by that all screamed "SWIRLY!!!!!" at the top of their lungs.  My parents were confused but I was too embarrassed to say anything and speak up.  I loathed the first day of school.

 

Then, a couple weeks before classes started, he stopped showing up. Word from a friend was that his family moved.  I couldn't believe it.  I snuck down towards his house to try to confirm this, terrified of it not being true and him spotting me.  I saw the "Sold" sign on his house and felt such great relief.   The first day of school came and I still was wary that this was an elaborate hoax..that he would pop up and surprise me just when I thought I was safe. But he never did.  That's the effect a bully can have on you.  I wish I could say I stood up to him...or that I told someone...but I never have until now.