Hi, my name is Simon Tremblay, I'm 33 and I've been bullied and intimidated during 5 grueling years from 2nd grade to 7th grade ( skipped a grade ).

My story begins in 2nd grade, but if you really want to understand it completely, I have to rewind back to 1st grade and the ensuing events in the summer between 1st and 2nd grade. Back in 1st grade, I was the so called "alpha male" of the group at our rural school in Canada. I used my status to protect the weak, make people laugh and make sure a certain modicum of justice was respected in our group. I had everything, genius grade IQ, supportive parents, great friends, the girls undivided attention and the respect of the group as a leader. But as you might've guessed, it didn't last...

Fast forward to summer between 1st and 2nd grade, I'm in my parents bedroom, watching recorded comics on VHS tapes. My cousin, who shall remain anonymous, barges in from the rear door of the house, rushes in the kitchen and out the front door. Back then, I had no idea what this meant... I would only find out much, much later.

Its now the beginning of 2nd grade, they had to merge our class with the 3rd graders, we went from a 2nd grader group of 25 students to 11. I didn't know what happenned, all I know is that all of a sudden, most of my friends were gone and our group was left with only a handfull which had to be merged with the 3rd graders class. My cousin was among us. I used to be able to protect him. Unbeknownst to me, those days were over.

For no apparent reason that I could decipher at this young age, all of a sudden, not only I had lost the respect of my classmates, the attention of the girls and my status as a wise and just leader. I was being ostracized, ignored, feared, ridiculed, beaten, intimidated and everytime I wanted to act on natural impulses to approach a girl in our class, it would get even worse! The teachers didn't do anything. The direction didn't do anything, well no, that's not entirely true, I heard later that each time one of them was sent to the director's office "because of me", the director gave them money to "behave". Yeah, I know that you're rolling your eyes right now.

It went on for 5 years... It affected every aspect of my life, and transformed me completely. After 5 years, I couldn't recognize myself at all. The sun was gone, the magic, the joy of life, all gone. Even years later I have a very hard time being able to let myself go with women, I've only been able recently to let myself go in private and enjoy and share our love the way we all naturally learn to share and cherish it. Later, MUCH LATER, without any help, I have finally been able to put a name on it. Complex post traumatic stress disorder. Its the same thing family incest victims experience, or war veterans.

Let's rewind a bit. You know when my cousin rushed in the kitchen to flee through the front door? He was fleeing from my grandfather who had just attempted to abuse him sexually. Back then, in the 80's, the belief of children abuse is that it was a disease that was passed on in the family from father to son, which grew up to be a children molester and gave the disease to his son, and so on.

So in between 1st and 2nd grade. I had already been labeled a child molester by the community. The mother of my cousin had spoken and warned everyone about my grandfather, without knowing that this would result in hell for me AND for her son. You see, up until 1st grade I had been able to protect her son which was picked on at school because he was a slow learner and a bit introverted. But no more... Not only had most of the parents of the childrens in my class fled the community for fear of this thing being "contagious", but the parents who stayed told their childrens: "This kid is dangerous, he's a monster, never let him approach you or a girl!"

Now you can begin to understand how all hell broke loose. And you can partly begin to decipher how this kind of thing is triggered. Parenting is key, debunking myths is key, having a proactive approach is key. Fear is the enemy.

A bit less than 30 years later, my cousin still hasn't recovered at all. He's addicted to drugs and has suicidal tendencies. I managed to finally escape the drugs out of sheer intellectual will and luck. I finally managed to begin to enjoy life again and stopped thinking about suicide as an option.

But, this isn't the end of my story you see... Back in 6th grade, I must've been maybe 9 or 10 year old. I hatched a plan to get rid of my bullies at school. the ones who made my life a living hell. Who made me don't want to go to bed during the week so I could have a longer break from them by not sleeping. I'm still insomniac. The ones who each time when even only 1 out of them all ( and they were numerous ), was sick and couldn't go to school. I remember how happy I was those days because I knew that my day would be just a little bit easier. A little bit more peacefull.

Anyway, I hatched a plan, I knew what to do. I was going to kill them, during playtime with a rifle. Sounds familiar? Can you imagine a 9-10 year old kid arranging everything, to how he would bring the rifle in the night and where to hide it. When to act, etc. TO KILL HIS BULLIES? CAN YOU IMAGINE IT? I can barely imagine it myself and I was this kid!

By sheer stroke of luck tho, one thing came and threw a wrench in my plans. A loving soul, the only friend in my class that I had in those 5 years who showed me respect and didn't judge me or label me or ostracize me. He showed me, without being conscious of it at all that the whole world wasn't entirely comprised of cruel people who didn't care.

Now you see, when I see school shootings now, I have a very special point of view regarding the issue. I don't see it as a kid "gone berserk" or "gone mad". I see it, them. for what they are, symptoms of a sick society which is badly in need of an upgrade of its psychosocial system. From fear, to compassion. From denial, to understanding. From bullies, to loving souls.

I share this so the kids who are being bullied right now know that there is light at the end of the so called tunnel. I live a happy life now, even despite the symptoms I still endure to some degree, but which are fading as I work on them.

I share this so that kids who are around those who are being bullied know that you can play a role, YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE!

I share this so the parents of kids who are being bullied and the parents of the bullies understand that they can also choose to have a role to play. YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE!

I share this so that the officials at school, at the government and elsewhere understand that you too also have a crucial role to play. YOU TOO CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE!

TOGETHER, WE WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE!

I was really young, probably nine or ten and I was at my cousin, Diego's, birthday party at his house in Sun City, CA. He lived with my grandparents and his mom and disabled sister, Rebecca. I think it was February and living in Southern California my whole life, I was not accustomed to any kind of weather except sun and the occasional shower. My cousin lived in a typical neighborhood of Riverside County in Sun City, so it was mostly white, lower income area, where there isn't a high value put on education, but there was on your ability to do sports and fight. My family may not have had the same values, but my cousins friends were typical. It was actually a cold day, which, is not something I particularly enjoy now, nor did I then because I liked to be outside unbound by clothing, namely my shirt, and able to play baseball. I guess it was kind of a big birthday for my cousin because there was a petting zoo and a bounce house, which was a burden on my grandfather who was a truck driver, my aunt and grandmother didn't work and my cousin's father wasn't much of a father to speak of. Anyways, the party guests were an assortment of family members, my cousin's neighborhood friends and his sister's friends from her class. They all had fairly severe physical or mental disorders, similar to hers, which are akin to cerebral palsy. So, I was having a ball with a petting zoo and lots of food and sugar and a bounce house, but it just kept getting colder and the skies grew more and more ominous. After probably an hour, the heavens let loose and it started to rain and then hail and it actually snowed, not far above sea level in Southern California, in Ferbruary. I was kind of awestruck and confused and decided, amid the chaos, that I would seek shelter in the bounce house while everyone else scurried for cover in the garage or inside the house. When I got into the bounce house, there was a boy sitting in the corner with down syndrome and not a parent or care taker in sight. He didn't really look distressed or in trouble, so I just kept on bouncing. Right after me, trounced in one Diego's neighborhood friends. There was a swiss ball in the bounce house that I had no use for because it was too big to throw very hard and I knew that it was so that Rebecca could try to balance and stand up. Diego's friend picked it up and immediately threw it toward the corner of the bounce house where Rebecca's friend was sitting and it hit him square in the face. I grew up in the safest city in the United States (Irvine) and had never really seen abuse like that, so I was confused and then upset. I told him that if he did it again, I was going to hit him in the face with the ball because I knew that I was good at throwing things and I thought that was a decent enough threat to make him stop. I looked around and there wasn't really an adult near us, so I couldn't run and get someone to handle this situation and I wasn't going to leave this helpless boy with down syndrome alone with someone that was abusing him. As if to call my bluff, Diego's friend retrieved the ball and again threw it directly into the corner, hitting Rebecca's friend in the face. Overcome with anger and disbelief I charged the bully and the next thing I know my grandmother was pulling me off of him and out of the bounce house by my ankles. I do not know exactly what happened after I charged the bully, but I do know from that day forth I did not and will not stand for bullying. I have seen over the past couple of years how bullying, both online and in school has been a major problem in my community. I have in some way been both a victim of bullying and unwittingly been a bully myself, but I am sure that bullying has to stop.

Hello, my name is Emma.  I remember being bullied at my public school back when I was very young and small.  I never got bullied physically, only verbally.  The teachers did not help me enough but my therapist did.  

I remember getting tripped purposely in line by one of my classmates on the way to lunch.  I remember crying hysterically when I fell and one boy in my class picked up my lunchbox for me.  He has always been nice to me, one of the few kids who was nice to me.  Back then I wasn't so great at socializing.  Not that I said anything that was uncool, I was just incredibly shy.  I think most of the kids bullied me verbally because I had a liking of bugs.  I still do.  I wasn't so great at standing up for myself back then, either, and I was known to cry easily.  I am still a sensitive person but not as much as I used to be.

I also got to the point where I was depressed and it was at such a young age.   Sometimes, during high-school, I worry that some of the kids at my school have a problem with me.  They do not but I still worry anyway.  I also worry that some of them think I'm a weirdo in a bad way.  I worry that I get judged behind my back.  I can relate to being judged.   My mom also had a bad choice of boyfriends.  I would unintentionally watch my mom and her boyfriend not get along.  They would argue but not physically fight.    

My 5 year old entered her first year of school. We live in a mostly Hispanic neighborhood. So my Light Skinned blue/green eyed blonde hair daughter stuck out like a sore thumb she was literally the only White child in her school.

She was Picked on Daily at recess saying how She could not play with other children because they said  she was different and told her to go away. A few boys told her she looked like a boy and was ugly because she had hair on her arms. Other Little girls would take Mulch and poke her with it, tell her "your not our friend "

My Once Happy Go lucky Loved everyone who was so excited to start school at the beginning of the year was coming home Asking Me  to Shave her arms because only boys have hairy arms and when i refused she tried to pull them out herself! Then always thinking she was ugly because thats what she was being told daily. Begging me to keep her home from school, Crying her eyes out every morning because I sent her anyways.

I had talks with the teacher about what was going on. She told me " well if She does not tell me this is going on i cant handle it " My daughter was scared that she would be yelled at by her teacher to even tell her. And my daughter said there was times she did go to tell her teacher but she was to busy talking to another teacher to pay any attention to her or yell at her for interrupting a conversation. What kind of message does that send our kids? Fend for themselves to just Deal with it.

One conversation the teacher had said to me " well i told her to ignore them and play somewhere else away from them " So my Daughter is supposed to just suck it up basically and go play by herself and be singled out while other kids bad behavior is going unpunished. That is not right in my opinion. No Child deserves to be bullied or pushed aside.

Since school has been out My daughter is STILL effected by the things that happened at school. She's always moody she is now mean to her siblings. This needs to stop its a never ending Cycle the bullied end up becoming the bully Because the bullies go unpunished while the Victims get pushed aside or yelled at for complaining/tattling. The schools need to step up against bullying or at least make a better effort to do something.  

I am what some people call a "senior citizen" because I am 65 years old. Many days I still feel like a kid because I have never forgotten my experiences with being bullied. As a middle school student I was relentlessly "picked on" by other kids. This occurred every single school day! No adult seemed to notice or care when a group of kids would follow me in the hallway and mimic my actions or call me names. This was in a time when there was much less awareness of the damage bullying can do to a person's self-esteem, mental and physical health, and enjoyment of life. I lived through that terrible time and I firmly believe that, having had that personal experience, I am more determined than ever to make sure no other young person has to suffer what I suffered. As a teacher I watched my students closely so that I could identify anyone who was being bullied and who was doing the bullying. It was not tolerated in my classroom. Believe me when I say that grown-ups have to be advocates and help kids who are in trouble. I only wish someone had done that for me!

Everyday has been hard for my son Mikey. He has been bullied since his first grade year. He is now moving up to fourth grade next year. I have often wondered why this keeps happening to him. I have only come to one conclusion. He is different. He has two mothers, his favorite color is pink,  loves his long hair, and his earring he is super friendly to everyone, to even those who have picked on him. I do not see him as weak but a kind soul. He cries often and almost always wants to stay home from school because he has no real friends. Even those who have been around him also being picked on would change sides and join in to harm him. I am sad to know my son has no one he can be buddies with. Not even one sleep over or anyone to share in the simple boy joys as to playing video games or just playing catch. My wife and myself have said to him: "we love you for being the way you are and it doesn't matter what anyone thinks, its what you think that matters." I love my son and I have done almost everything to make sure he is safe. I am a protective mother and I would bend over backwards for him. I have called the cops and they have told me: "no attack is random and something had to be done on his end for him to be bullied" I could not believe what I heard from out law enforcement. I just keep hoping that with years to come something will be done. I keep hoping the schools will educate on the matter to help prevent it. To teach the young children that what they say and do has an effect on everyone. I feel for all the children who suffer from bullying and I send my heart to all the families who are in the same boat. I have only one other thing to say to everyone. "Keep being yourself no matter what anyone tells you. You are beautiful inside and out. We are all different no two people are the same. Love yourself and keep your head up, someday things will be better just keep smiling." <3

My story isn't much, I never got physically hurt buy bullies, but mentally I have gotten abused by many at school when I was younger, and even still do now with some family members who have been hurtful to me all my life with their words, I still have some family members who tell me to go kill myself because i'm not wanted around, every time they see me, so I try to minimize that as much as possible since I'm an adult now and can do as I please when it comes to not wanting to see someone. I would always get called a teachers pet at school just because I was doing well, I was called a nerd because I love math and science. I've been told I was ugly, that no one would want to be my friend or would want to date me when I was older. Up until I found the right crowd, until I found the right people to be with, all that changed when I found those people, and it happened when I went to college, which I am thankful for being able to get there. I know how it is, and I've seen friends get picked on worse, and when I had the chances I would always stick up for them, I want to be able to be there for others too.

In 1986, I lived in the blink and you’ll miss it town of Kathleen, Florida.  (No offense to those who lived or still live there, but even they would have to admit, it’s small.)  I was in the sixth grade and was one of the more popular kids in school, or at least I thought I was.  I had tons of friends, was on the A honor roll every report card.  Life was good.  But mid-way through that year, my family moved into the city of Lakeland, Florida.  Now I do not begrudge my parents this decision, nor do I regret it.  A brick house beats a single wide trailer all day.  But I will admit, that’s when things started to change.  Like I said before, it’s hard to start something new.

For the remainder of my sixth grade year, I kind of kept to myself.  I was in gifted classes and made friends with the other kids there, and I made friends with a couple of boys in my neighborhood.  Nut I tried not to make a scene  at my new school.  I figured I would just wait until seventh grade and a completely new school to try to assert myself.

The best laid plans of mice and men, as they say.  Almost immediately I knew something was wrong.  People who had been my friends just six months ago were now making fun of me.  At first it was simple things, calling me a nerd because I was given the French Horn to play in band, calling me a geek because I was in Boy Scouts, even though the one who called me that was in Boy Scouts as well, (if only at the age of 11 I knew the word hypocrite.)  But things turned dark very quickly.  The words changed from nerd and geek to faggot and homo.  I didn’t know why, I knew that I liked girls.  Was quite positive of that fact.  But the words kept flying.  Day after day.  One of the people who was calling me that was my friend just the year before.  I was lucky in the fact that it only got physical once.  I was getting off the bus and walking to my house , which was less than 50 yards away.  It had rained that day and the ditch by my house was full of water.  Suddenly I found myself lying in the ditch while some of the kids that got off at my stop were laughing.  One of them had taken it upon himself to tackle me for fun.  If my father had been asleep when I walked in the door, it would have gone unnoticed, but it just so happened to be his day off and he was awake, I walked in soaking wet and he went to have a discussion with the boys.  It never got physical again, but the words kept flowing.

Fast forward to high school, I was now pretty much an introvert.  I had friends, great friends, but I didn’t really put myself out there at first.  But by that point I didn’t care what people said, the damage was done and they couldn’t hurt me anymore.  Except one day, The girl I had been pining for since almost day one of tenth grade had agreed to go out with me.  I remember standing on the sidewalk kissing her as we went to our separate classes, I could feel that someone was staring at us, I looked and a girl that had been in Jr High with me just blurted out: “I thought you were gay.”  I still remember her name, I remember all their names.  Unfortunately, they’re burned into my brain.  I can say it did get better.  I have been happily married for thirteen years (to a woman) and I have a 9 year old son who means the world to me.  The funny thing is, I can see my personality in him.  He has recently started to be bullied, and I see the joy that he once had diminishing ever so slightly.  That’s why I’ve started a project called Compassion Rock in all its facets.  To help him and others like him find a source of expression to keep them from being introverted to the point that they don’t express their feelings.

I always had music.  From the time I was old enough to remember, my dad seeded music into my life.  Styx, Pink Floyd, Molly Hatchet, Alice Cooper, (pretty much anything from the 1970′s that you hear on classic rock radio today, that’s what my dad listened to.)  Music became my outlet.  When I got home from school and shut the door.  The bullying stopped.  I want that for kids today.  It’s much harder for them to escape it, with social media being so prevalent.  But I want to create a place that once the door closed behind them, the bullying stops, if just for a while.  And in the process teach them music that they can use to build themselves up.

I'm sharing this in hopes it can help someone. My bullying started in my first elementary school when I was in 2nd grade by my teacher who would call me names like stupid and wouldn't let me go to the bathroom one day so when I had an accident and all the kids made fun of me. She called me even more names and basically told me I was a stupid useless child. I moved to a new elementary school in the same town and the kids would call me ugly and tell me no one liked me. That went on until I moved to a new town three hours away which the bullying was then about my clothes and what I ate and one day it was because I was dancing on my way to recess. In middle school I got nicknames like garbage can and cinnastick and the kids would call me fat and ugly and tell me to go kill myself because no one liked me. In high school 9th grade it got as bad as the girls telling me I was a stupid skank and I had these pants I loved with a zebra pattern on the thighs, which they called ugly and they called me cum angel and on a daily basis they would tell me I was worthless. One girl even went as far as telling the principal I stole her backpack when she had left it at a friends and I got in trouble for it. I would tell teachers, counselors and they never did anything. I was put in homeschool for tenth and 11th it got so bad but when we moved out of state in 12th I went back to regular high school and I would get bullied for being from California. I was there for a week and they would say things like oh California would know or oh California thinks she's so great. Once we moved back to Cali I refuse to go back to regular school and finished my year in an adult education program. It took away my self confidence mostly but it also made it so anything someone says to me I take in a negative manner. Just the other day I told my brother I feel like the joke of my family. Plus it doesn't help when you're judged for what you eat or what you wear or what you do to your own body by your family. It's hard to believe in yourself when others have constantly told you you're no good. It's a daily struggle for me but I'm continuing to try and believe in myself and I read Staying Strong 365 days a year and it's helped me a lot to just be who I am and to not worry about what others think of me. Hopefully one day we can stomp out bullying so no one has to endure the pain it causes. 

I wanted to share my story in hopes that it could give someone else hope that things can get better, and that they are not alone as I always thought I was.  I am 30 years old now but can still remember getting bullied as young as the age of 3 years old.  Not just by the other kids around be but by my daily sitter as well.  I can not say that my lifetime of being bullied has not left scars both physical and emotional.  But now as an adult can say that I truly believe it has made me a stronger person.

I never mentioned to my parents or brothers about my bullying until I got to be about the age of 5.  Because I never seemed to be able to get away from it.  I was teased at church, school, as well as at home by the other neighborhood kids.  I can still remember telling my parents and every time hearing the same response "It can't be that bad" or "They will stop next year".  Well, they never did, in fact things would only get worse.  In the 4th grade I had gotten so fed up with getting ignored by my teachers and getting told regularly by the principle and everyone else who had some authority that it had to be something I was doing to cause it all.  That all the kids wouldn't be doing all that I was claiming if I hadn't antagonized it myself.

Then in 1994 when I was just about to start the 5th grade my family moved across the country.  I immediately thought to myself, "WONDERFUL!  Now I can start fresh where no one knows me".  What I was really hoping was that I could finally for the first time in my life make a friend.  Come to find out though that just the complete opposite happened.  And things began to get much worse.  I now not only had my peers to worry about but my teacher(s) as well.  I was backed into the corner.  It also didn't help that everyone still called me the exact same names in Kentucky as they had all the way in California.  And it soon became physical when I entered middle school.  And I couldn't even go to my parents anymore because even they were starting to think I was telling wild tales of how bad it was getting to be.  Riding the school bus was a dangerous thing for me.  I would have to run as fast as I could home because I knew that if I didn't then I would surely run into trouble.  I can remember one incident very clearly of when I wasn't fast enough.  The neighborhood kids grabbed a hold of me to pin me on the ground only to shove a large ball of silly string doused in rubbing alcohol in my mouth and wanting me to swallow it.  I refused and took the beating instead.  Going home with cuts and bruises beginning to form and soaked in tears I remember the shock on my mom's face.  And still heard the same words from her that I had heard so many times before, "Things will get better".  I was at the time the first student at my eighth grade graduation that needed security to guide be due to threats I had received from some of my peers.

Entering high school my position was pretty well set at that point.  And so was my routine.  Walk to class as quickly as possible, sit in seat closest to door and against the back wall, look at the floor when I walk, and don't speak or look at anyone.  My self-esteem was extremely low, and I didn't trust anyone.  Not my teachers, counselors, principles, and definitely not my peers.  I nearly failed gym because I was too afraid to change in the locker room.  Due to one imparticular incident of another student kicking in the bathroom stall door and busting my nose and nearly knocking me out.  When I went to tell my teacher what had just happened his response was, "since I didn't see it happen I can't do anything about it", regardless of my bloody busted nose.

It became a daily activity for others to throw things, trip me, kick me, shove me, steal my things, and torment me relentlessly until I cracked, which I sometimes did.  One incident I can remember so clearly happened after school.  I was walking in the courtyard while another student that I knew very well would not leave me alone, and I couldn't take it anymore.  I spun around on my heels and punched him square in the nose.  I still to this day cannot believe what I had done.  I immediately took off running but I didn't get a good enough start because he soon gave me such a hard shove that I went flying forward and falling flat on my face on the asphalt, only to hear him say that if I ever touched him again he would kill me.  I have permanent hearing damage because of my bullying.  For four straight years I would receive trumpet blasts in my ears during my band class.

But out of all the compiled years of having this go on in my life I still can't forget the one thing that hurt the most.  It wasn't all the physical abuse that I suffered.  It wasn't even all the verbal.  But rather it was one simple phrase that spoke  mountains to me by my teacher of 4 years all throughout my high school years.  It summed it all up for me, and I must admit I still have trouble getting over even today over 10 years later.  My very last day of school and what would be what I thought the last time to see my teacher he said to me, "I'm really happy to see you go because you have been my least favorite student of all".  Eight years later I saw him again.  He was now my nephews band teacher.  And I couldn't believe that he could stand there and act like as if he had spoken those words to me so many years earlier.  I really wanted to give him a few choice words then and there but I bit my tongue, smiled, and politely walked out the auditorium and watched from outside, because I could not stand to be in the same room as him.

I can't say that I haven't been bullied as an adult in the work force, because I have.  But I can say that things have begun to get better.  And finally at the age of about 28 I had finally made my first friend.

Now when I run into people I used to know in high school and they approach me asking if I am so and so I immediately respond with no, they must have me mixed up with someone else.  I didn't go to school here.  One certain time this happened I can still remember her walking towards me.  I couldn't believe it.  She had been one of my worst instigators, and definitely a leader in all that had been done to me.  And of course she asked me if I was so and so and I spat out my same response as I had always done before.  But this time it was different.  She had called my bluff.  And what I heard her say I will never forget.  She had apologized and told me she was sincerely sorry for what her and all her friends had done to me in the past.  I was in utter total shock and couldn't speak at that point.  I remember just being able to stare and nod.  I never will forget that moment, but I'm still not ready to forgive completely.  But I can say that with those two simple yet big words of "I'm Sorry" will be with me forever and did heal a small portion of my damaged soul.  

And today at the age of 30 as I look back it is hurtful to remember all the troubles I have had to get through, but a portion of me is happy as well, because it has helped me become who I am today.  And I really believe I am stronger for it.  I took me a very long time to realize this, and if you asked me when I was that little girl ready the valentine's day cards that read "Ugly" and "Horse Face" and "I hate you" on them if I thought I would be who I am today I would have thought it to be crazy.  But now, I am a very determined individual that has a strong drive to achieve what I want and I don't give up.  No matter how rocky it can get, I keep trucking along, and I eventually make it to the other side.

I hope that my story can help some others to know that they are not alone like I thought I was, and that although things may not look very bright right now, "It will get better".  I guess my mom and dad were right all along.