I'm in 7th grade. I have alot of "close friends" but some of them don't know the real me. I was bullied in the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, & 5th grade by some of my so called "best friends" they would talk about me behind my back and tell people stuff that wasn't true. One of the girls even spilt water on my private spot on my pants to make it look like i had peed on myself. I guess the just didn't understand that my brother had just hung himself when i was seven. So i was still getting out of the depression phase of that. In 6th grade & 7th grade everything started coming back, Sarah one of the girls that had used to bullied me, came back and started doing the same things with one of my "best friends". She basically just pulled me and her apart. In 7th grade (the grade i am currently in) i started cutting. I started feeling depressed and worthless. Earlier in the year this girl had called me a whore. And it made me feel like crap. I started crying and freaking out. By 2nd exploritory the whole school knew about it. I started cutting then and it continued on. About 2 months ago, these girls in the chorus class started talking about me staring at me, and basically taking everyone away from me that they could. I continued cutting and being depressed then i found out that they're was people exactly like me. Me & my friends just made a page on facebook about a c weeks ago, and that exact night i found out that i wasn't the only one. Everyone that would join the page would post their story. So i decided to post mine. I said everything that i thought that needed to be said; Everything was the truth. I am still currently cutting my arms, but some of my friends know now. This one girl that claims to be my "best friend" calls me an attention whore behind my back. It keeps getting worse & worse. I wish i could say i know it gets better. But for me.. i don't think it will..

Right now I am currently in the 8th grade. I'm not the most popular one at my school but I also don't get picked on. I would say that I'm a pretty likeable person. But, just a couple of weeks ago, I went through my first heartbreak. It was very hard for me. He told people about it which is okay with me because I did to. But, those people told other people and this girl from my old school called me out over Instagram. She told me to stop f-ing with him. I then said things back to her. They weren't bad but I knew that I shouldn't even have responded. It really hurt me when she called me names such as a "cry baby" and that I was annoying. The feeling I got when I saw that was horrible. And to make things worse, I lost a friend. People started judging me before they even knew the whole story. But, now that I've been through this, I know who my true friends are. I know this isn't as near as bad as some of the things that are happening, but for those people what I have to say is this: Stay strong. Don't be afraid to stand up for yourself. Know that there are people out there who care for and love you. Someone would be absolutely devastated if you took your life. Live life to the fullest and love every minute of it. <3

i'm in 6Th grade and people are cruel. sometimes life is miserable and how people treat other people only makes it worse. one kid texted me 'you could kill yourself and no one will notice or care. as soon as that message came in everyone in my contacts messaged me the same thing. i wanted to give up, my life sucked. i actually did try to kill myself but i couldn't leave my dad that way. but this year i moved to a different school so it is a lot better. so if you ever want to give up IT GETS BETTER :)

Nine years ago I stood on that stage, accepted my high school diploma with honors, and with a great breath of relief, walked away from the hell that my life had been for the past 8 years. Little did I realize, the fight wasn't over.

It's 2013, I'm now twenty seven years of age, yet the scars of relentless torment continue to haunt my life, regardless of a college degree, a job, and an avid thirst for travel, adventure, and knowledge. You see, forgiving those who stole your happy childhood away is easy, but forgetting, is something entirely more challenging.

As far back as I can remember, I was made the butt of the school yard joke, the punching bag for the pint-sized zealot who thought it would be funny to see me cry. Like a white, toughened scar against pink skin where a gaping wound once lay open, although their words may no longer hurt, and may often seem silly when I look back on those younger days, the pain caused by them remains imprinted in my thoughts and on my psyche.

The most gruelling was between the sixth grade and graduation, when a new word was introduced to me... faggot. I did not know what this word was or what it implied, but it seemed those that wished me ill, believed me to be one. This word, and it's believed negative connotation, followed me from middle school, to junior high school, all the way to that fateful day when I stood in the warmth of the sun, which seemed to shine only for me, and I took my diploma in hand, my ticket out, and walked off that football field to greener pastures. Little did I know back then that I was, in fact, a homosexual. Let's face it, I didn't know much about life back then, I was ten years old for crying out loud, but that is beside the point. My days were spent in fear; fear for my life, fear for my sanity and I was finally free.

At this point, you may be asking yourself "what was so terrible?" Well reader, let me enlighten you for a moment. Besides having the stigma of being a "faggot" hanging over my head, I also had terrible acne (you wouldn't know it by looking at me now) and I came from a family that believed in a nature religion, but we'll get to that soon enough.

In grade school I had platinum-blond hair. Many of you may find yourself jealous regarding this fact about me, but it has been the bane of my existence. I was teased because of it, called names like, grandpa (I told you they seem silly now, but at the age of 7...). Even though my hair has darkened over the years, to this day I wish I had rich, chocolate-brown hair. My last name was Stann (I've recently legally changed my name), which some how evolved into a taunt of "stand up and sit down, stand up and sit down, hahaha" I know, grade school children aren't very imaginative, but at the time, it stung, because there was nothing I could do about my name. There was one boy in particular who seemed to have a vendetta against me, which was only made worse because he walked the same route home that my sister and I took. One autumn day he began teasing me in front of my house. My sister, who is four hears younger than me, and five years old at the time, threw a fist full of leaves at him and told him to stop. He turned and went after her with malicious intent. I don't remember much, only that my sister ran up to the house as the boy lay on the ground while I stood there kicking him. I remember he kicked me in the shins, but I didn't take notice; he was going to hurt my sister and I wasn't going to let him. Honestly, that is a proud moment in my book.

As I mentioned, the harassment escalated as I entered the sixth grade and onward through high school. I was pushed, called names, and generally harassed while waiting for the bus after school. Gym (or phys ed) was a nightmare. A boy even stabbed a pencil through my hand in the school library one afternoon because... he felt like it? he didn't like me? I couldn't say. I informed the teachers, guidance counselors, principals, et cetera, about what was going on and they always said they would "do something about it," yet year after year it continued.

The worst time for me was from 8th grade on. The boys in gym class would say: "don't get to close, the fag might rape you." I was shoved into my locker, which was often defiled with derogatory slurs, on more than one occasion. Nasty notes were slipped between the locker's vents for me to read. "Peers" (I use that term loosely) would call out names as they raced passed in the hallways. During the swim lessons in gym class, groups of boys would surround me in the pool and splash me, yelling "faggot," or  hold me under water chanting "witch, witch, drown the witch" (I did mention I practice a nature religion right?). One day I got out of the pool coughing up water and crying after a particularly brutal "dunking" and ran to the locker room. The coach yelled at me to stop. I told him to f*ck off and asked him if he saw what was going on, or if he was too busy enjoying the company of his female students. He didn't respond. I charged past the school secretary and into the principal's office, tears streaming down my face, shaking with rage, and demanded that he put a stop to it. He, of couse, played dumb, asking me: "put a stop to what?" That same year, one of the boys hurled a basketball at the back of my head as he called out "faggot." I turned around, shoved him back, and prepared to fight for myself. The coach took me to the principal and I received a three day suspension. Justice be served...? My parents were proud!

It didn't get any better once I entered high school. The taunting further escalated to physical threats on my life. I became terrified to walk home, because they "know the alley behind the super market I walked past," and knew where I lived. One afternoon I answered the phone. The voice on the other end asked for me by name. When I said "this is he" the voice told me how he wanted to "f*ck me so hard," and "rape my *ss." I put my hand over the receiver and handed the phone to my father telling him: "it's for you." I never saw my father get so angry. The caller hung up once my father ripped into him, but he dialed *69 (which calles back the most recent caller to your phone) and gave the parents of the caller an ear full. I still don't know how the caller aquired my home phone number, (for those of you who are younger, this was before cell phones were an every day convenience).

Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I didn't even feel safe at home. My parents were talking of getting the police involved (these bullies had begun seeking me out at home after all). The thought of suicide plagued my every waking moment, just to have some peace, an escape from the day to day hell that life had become.

I'm not sure what stopped me. Perhaps it is my undying thirst for life (I hadn't even visited Ireland yet), the thought of my mother and sister, or an inner strength that I wasn't aware of, but I said "NO." I became angry with myself and I remember standing in the kitchen, carving knife pressed firmly to my wrist, and screaming: "NO. You will not take me. I will NOT be your victim." It was at that point in my life that I refused to let them win. If I did this, they would have won, and I knew I was stronger than that, I was stronger than them!!! I decided that the best way to get back at them, the best way to WIN, was to live my life. The best revenge would be a life well lived! That, and to prove to MYSELF that I wasn't the looser they all said I was. I remember talking to my parents and one of my favorite teachers about everything, and telling them that I could no longer allow these bullies to rule my life, and if they wanted to judge me without taking the time to know who I was, than they weren't worth my time or energy. Those who knew/know me are the only ones that truely matter(ed). My teacher leaned in and said: "you are very wise beyond your years."

...

I still look in the mirror and see those hurtful words (looser, ugly, pizza face, retard, faggot, queer...). I take time, every day, to remind myself of all the beauty and good that stares back at me from the shiny glass reflection. I'm a talented artist, a great dancer, a loyal friend, an inteligent, educated adult, a devoted lover, a protective brother, a resilient person, a caring soul, and an attractive human being. It feels a life time ago, and yet it continues to hurt every now and again. To be honest, I still can't bring myself to join a gym. But, I fight. Every day I fight, against those words, against myself, and what, for years, I've been told I am. I know I'm not all those things, but you tell me how to forget what people have called you for half of your life. I've forgiven them, but it is going to take time for me to forget, time for me to rebuild my own self image. I'm still fighting, and I will never give up on myself!!!

One last note. I'm visiting Ireland for the first time, for two weeks, this May.

I was bullied since 4th grade. I was picked on because of my weight and how i looked and just how i was. I would run home crying because i didnt understand what i did for everyone not to like me. I only had a couple friends but mostly everyone just avoided me. I then got to middle school and it got a little better but I still was picked on. My mom made sure that i wouldnt. When i got there i got contacts instead of glasses, my hair grew longer, and I lost a bit of weight. But at times that wasnt enough. I didnt let peeople get to me or other kids. I stood up for myself and others too. I didnt care anymore what people would do, i would defend. Sticks and Stones is probably the worst saying ever because of course words hurt. But now i am a freshmn in high school and i dont tolerate anyone steping on me or my friends or just random people i see getting bullied. People do not understand that we have feelings too. There were times where i just wanted to run away and get away from it all, who wouldnt? But that isnt the answer or the soulution. Get help and talk to someone because there is always help. And thats what i did and now i help others. It's okay not to be okay. We sometimes just need to find the little things in life and make the most out of it. And just letting people get bullied is just horrible. Take a stand and help :) and just because things arent going good now it will get better, I promise.

In all of high school I was picked on for my weight...not that I was the most over weight person in the world, but I had a little more weight on me than others. At the end of 11th grade the bullying became extreme, with the use of social media and cell phones I was an even bigger target then before. It went on so far that a girl sent a forward to everyone calling me a milk cow...I would have people messaging me calling me names, picking on me at school, and out side of school events. A whole cheer squad took a picture of them "milking" this girl and they posted it online with my name saying it was for me. The thing is I never told anyone but my parents who tried their best to do something about it. However, like most cases, nothing was ever done about it. After high school I kept to myself and stuck up for kids who went through the same thing as me, and tried to be a good example to my little brother and my cousins. Life gets better after high school, you realize the only people who are important are your family and the ones who stick up for you and are there by your side. Yes, there are still bullies, but they are way easier to avoid and you don't have to deal with them like you did in school. My advice for younger kids is to stick up for yourself, but don't go on their level. Be confident in yourself because that's the way God made you, and you are perfect in his image. Also, if you ever even have thoughts of harming yourself, talk to someone...whether it be a parent, teacher, or a friend, talk to them. Don't do something permanent for something that will end in time! 

I have been bullied, but not to an extreme extent. When I was a freshman in high school I was bullied by a group of older girls calling me names and such. I have also always struggled with anxiety and depression throughout my life. This year, my senior year, I started telling people about my anxiety and depression. I never told many people because I was afraid of what people may think. I had seen others in my school being bullied online and such in similar situations. I wanted to show that it is okay to be different from others, and everyone has their own personal issues. 5 minutes into the movie I started crying. This should be shown in every school across America. Bullying needs to stop, and it pisses me off more than anything in the world. No one deserves it. Everyone needs to see this, it should be mandatory. 

So today I got a chance to do something I only dreamed about during my enraged emo years and that is….confront your childhood bully. So im at the mall minding my own business I get up to the contour and order my food and who do I see preparing it? The person who had made me question my self worth as well as my existence on this planet. As much as I would have loved to have enjoyed the moment I can honestly say I felt pain. She was obviously embarrassed and wouldn’t make eye contact. I wanted to say something like; “its ok im not gonna stab you” but the more I thought of what to say or do the more awkward I felt…so much so that I started making conversation with the other guy preparing my meal, blah blah blah and it went downhill from there. So yes ladies and gentlemen I was bullied when I was in middle school, and elementary school, and I was socially awkward in high school (most if not all of you were present to view my humiliation/emoness live), and as much as I would like to go back and come back as the person I am today to change certain decisions and situations I cant and I wont. Because its all the jerks, and idiots in your life past, present and future that mold you to become who you were meant to be. So moral of the story and conclusion to my random rant is; always be nice to people, because you don’t know what life might throw at you.Peace!

Although I am 23 now, I still remember how awful I felt to be bullied.  When I was in grade school, another classmate took it upon himself to constantly punch me and call me fat.  There were numerous days when I didn't want to go to school, because I knew what awaited me.  The principal of the elementary school at the time never made an effort to put an end to the bullying.  I have an 11 year old brother who has recently become the victim of bullying.  My mom has talked to the principal numerous times, but still nothing has been done.  It hurts to know my little brother is experiencing the same pain I had to endure how many years ago.  What is even more sad is how many schools refuse to acknowledge that bullying is a serious issue, and the only way to combat it is to take a stand, and have zero tolerance for it in schools.  

I never gave bullying a thought until it happened to me. I'd always had friends in school, I've always had people surrounding me. I thought that I'd sail through school having no problems. When I reached maybe the 7th or 8th grade, people started noticing that I was different. People saw that I had two moms. I live in a small country town where everyone knows everyone, and there aren't a lot of people who are "different." There were a lot of kids that were very strict Christians and they openly opposed gay ties. Because I had two moms I was constantly called names and bullied. They said me and my family were going to Hell... and friends I'd had  for years turned on me. One day, my English teacher gave our class an assignment to write a paper on a law that we would like to see be put through congress. When gay marriage and bullying came up, one of the girls who bullied me decided to write a paper specifically mocking me and my family. Her essay was about why gay marriage should be banned and illegal. The whole time she looked at me and made remarks about my family, and closed the essay with "God made Adam and Eve. NOT Adam And Steve." She continued to bully me and pick on me with her friends. I started cutting myself all down my sides and on my wrists. My mom went to the school multiple times about all the kids bullying me... but just like every other teacher they didn't do anything about it. By the middle of the year I didn't have any friends, I was always sitting alone. Then one day I couldn't take all of the bullying anymore and I stood up for myself. I stood my ground and I let the bullies know that I wasn't afraid of them and their words anymore. Eventually they stopped bullying me. Like I said, no one ever gives bullying a second glance until they're bullied personally. Bullying hurts everyone and causes much more than physical or mental abuse. I'm done letting bullies just get away with hurting a person just because they're different.