when I was about five years old my mom was diagnosed with cancer, it made my life hard and sad. starting the first year of school I was bullied, and that carried on until the very last day I actually went to school, or actually it continued until the day I found the love of my life, my rock. the first few years of school I was bullied because I was sad a lot, and because my mother looked a little strange because of the chemo she had to go through. one day my mom went to the principal with me because all the bullying and even the physical violence happened on school property, but the principal said there was nothing he could do and it was my fault, that day my mom took me out of that school, and a few days later I transferred to another school. the bullying at that school was rather a bit less though it still happened. a week before my 12th birthday, my mom passed away, I lost all faith in the world, and couldn't except that she was actually gone, a few days before my birthday I realized that I would never be able to see, or hug her again. that day was the saddest day of my life. that was the day I started mourning and I didn't care about anything anymore, I wore black every day, I was sad, and avoided talking to anyone. after two years my dad started worrying and getting mad at me, I didn't like it, so ever since that day I acted like the happiest girl and nobody actually noticed that I was hurting, I was still being bullied because I was different, but at that school I did meet my best friend, who was always there for me. when I finally finished high school I thought it would be the end of the bullying and the sadness... turns out I was wrong, I went of the next school where I again didn't fit in and I was bullied, but this time I had a friend who accepted me for who I was. with all the bullying and sadness I had been through there was only so much I could take before I dropped out of school. I started looking for my own way in life, but as no-one every really took the time to tell me anything about it was really hard, no-one cut me any slack, and no-one helped me out when I needed it, all I ever heard was "I wish I could help" and all I wanted t do was shout at them and say "get up and actually do something then" but after all those years I still hadn't found the strength to stand up for myself. I had a boyfriend though, who everyone thought was good for me, but as I was still keeping up the happy act no-one knew how he actually made me feel, he hurt me physically and emotionally, and worst of all he raped me, and never listened to me. one and a half years, and two hospital visits, and many doctors appointments later I finally broke it off. it made me happy that I was finally free of all the sadness or so I thought.and not long after that my best friend moved to the other side of the country. I became depressed, I got a drinking problem and started smoking again, I was vulnerable and guys like to take advantage of that, whether you like it or not, I was raped multiple times, and actually believed I deserved it, and I still continued the happy act though my dad started to see through it. the depression, drinking, smoking and being raped continued until I started spending time with my good friends boyfriend, I found someone to talk to and finally someone to replace the emptiness my best friend left, we actually started a relationship, he introduced me to his family and they made me feel happy again and made me feel like I finally belonged somewhere, I was happy and can't handle sadness anymore or anything that leads me to sadness, I run away from that, but I just can't handle it anymore, and honestly I don't think people should expect me too. I need time to heal and the people that don't accept that are excluded from my life, as soon as they accept it they are welcome to return, but for now I'm finding happiness with my new fiancé.

Being raised in the Philippines as an American child makes for some very complicated situations. When I first started at a private school in Manila, my teachers viewed me as something of a novelty. My face was plastered on the school's ads as a draw for parents who wanted a more "cultured" environment, when in reality, there were only three white kids at the institution, while the remainder was predominantly Filipino. Having lighter skin also made me an easy target for bullies.

However, the bullying didn't start until I was in fourth grade. It was like someone had flipped a switch, activating my classmates' evil sides. People I used to sit with began to shut me out and refuse to talk to me, and oftentimes I was forced to stay in the classroom and eat my lunch there while everyone else went out to the cafeteria. I had become an outcast.

The bullying started to get worse in sixth grade. Whereas previously my peers had been content to simply ignore me, someone came up with the idea to begin mocking me. It started with the word "loser" being whispered in my direction when I passed by, and later progressed to being pushed into walls, insults delivered with extra venom (and occasionally a little spit), and being pushed around. I always did my best not to lose my temper, because every teacher and guidance counselor I had spoken to had told me, "Don't let them see that it bothers you, or they'll just keep doing it." I tried, I really did, but I couldn't stop myself from lashing out at one boy who decided that insulting me wasn't enough, and had directed his words at my mother. That's when it all began.

Freshman year of high school I was the outcast again, and as if that wasn't enough, they started to physically hurt me, too. One boy, whose name and face I will never forget, took it too far. He hated me with a burning passion, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. I was the type to stay out of people's way, but that never mattered to him. He would slam me into walls, grip my arms with bruising force, and trip me up whenever I came too close. He would sneer at me every time I saw him, and throw my things to the other side of the room, and on one particularly memorable occasion, he punched me in the stomach in front of a teacher.

At the time, I thought, This is it. This is when they'll finally notice what's happening to me, and they'll put a stop to it. But alas, that didn't happen. It was as if my teacher had looked right through me--it was as if I was never even there. It was the loneliest I had ever felt in my life.

From then on, I would go to school each morning dreading the day ahead. I kept quiet in class, avoided people as much as possible, and tried to ignore all the false rumors my classmates would spread about me. It got so bad that the summer after my sophomore year, I tried to take my own life twice, but each time I couldn't go through with it. I would sit on my bathroom floor with a dinner knife held to my wrist, poised right above the vein, and then my family's faces would start swirling around in my head, and I would stop. I refused to hurt the only people in the world who loved me.

Things got a little better after that. I went back to school armed to the teeth with witty remarks and sarcastic comments, and no matter what insult was tossed my way, I had a retort on the tip of my tongue. My bullies soon realized that their taunts weren't effective anymore, because I had realized just how childish and petty they were. I still never fit in with my classmates, but my situation changed when my mom got moved to a different country for her job.

The school I attended was fantastic. I was only there for a year and a half, but I have never felt so at home in a school as I felt there. Thanks to the commitment of the faculty and staff and a very strict anti-bullying policy, I was never harassed. It also helps that I was surrounded by Americans who understood what it was like to grow up in foreign countries, and I finally made friends.

To this day, I still have issues with confidence and trusting people, and it'll be a while before that changes, but I'm getting comfortable in my own skin now and I'm not afraid to speak my mind, so I've got that going for me. In the end, I think the most important thing about preventing bullying is having a strong support system in the school itself. Administrators are in a position to do something about what's happening, but oftentimes their efforts are lacking. If we can give them some initiative, we can stop someone else from experiencing what I and many others have experienced, and perhaps give that person an opportunity to be one's self without fear of being judged.

I am a social worker that is working with a family that is currently experiencing a severe case of bullying. She has been cyber-bullied, physically assaulted on 3 occasions and threatened to have her throat slit and being pushed into oncoming traffic. Myself and her mother attended a meeting with administration and they are denying any instance or report of this. It has been reported but it seems as though the report is "missing". Administration blamed my client for all of her bullying as she either instigates it or it's because of who she hangs out with. We have attempted to discuss a stay away agreement and even a restraining order against this bully but the school says they will not enforce it. I am appalled at this. Her mother is afraid for her safety and her daughter is afraid to go to school.

Life for me has never been easy. I've always been a vulnerable kid; someone who was always an easy target for others to pick on. I began noticing this trend when I was in the fourth grade. I was a shy fourth grader and I had just started attending a private elementary school. The name of the school was Leslie Ellis. Through my one year at the school, I did not make many friends. There was this girl named Lydia who would constantly punch me and call me names until I hid in the corner and cried. Then there was this other kid, named Donato. He and I had a love/hate relationship. One day we would be the best of friends. The next day, we hated each other's guts. On a cloudy April's day, Donato and I were playing blackjack. I caught him cheating and I accused him of it but he continuously denied it. We got into a big argument until our teachers had to break it up. He talked to us privately and told us to make up and shake hands. We did as requested but as soon as our teacher left, Donato told me that he no longer was my friend. This broke my heart. We went to art class and I chose to sit as far away from Donato as possible. Yet, the whole time, he was throwing crumpled pieces of paper at me. I told him to stop repeatedly but to no avail. I had enough. And then I did something that I did the unspeakable. I picked up the nearest object and clenched it in my hands. It was scissors. I walked towards him and stabbed him in the arm with the scissors. My whole life, I have never been violent. But as the aggression towards me grew worse, I reached my boiling point. Donato later changed schools that week and that would be my first and last year at the school. There is not one day that goes by where I regret my actions. 

I went back to my previous school, hoping to be as well liked as before. That was not the case. People quickly learned of what I did as they began harassing me. This carried on into middle school. But it got even worse. People would throw food at me and call me names like gay, fag, dumbass, jackass, fatass. It got so bad that I had to tell the principal. When the kids found out that I told him, they began bullying me because I "snitched." There were times when I would beg my mother for me not to go to school because I didn't want to get hurt. When I played football for the middle school team, I missed a tackle on a player who eventually scored a touchdown. We lost that game by three touchdowns. But, people wanted to blame someone for the loss, so they blamed me. Another time I fumbled the football when we were close to scoring. Then everyone began harassing me for fumbling at the "one yard line". Everyone makes mistakes. But whenever I made a mistake, small or big, I would get teased for it. I began to fear myself as a person because I never wanted to make a mistake. Then there was this girl named Gabby who I had a crush on. One day she asked me out and, while trying to hold back my excitement, I said yes! Two weeks later, I found out that she was dared to ask me out by a couple of her friends and that she never had feelings for me. I was crushed. I didn't know what to do with myself. Everyday I had wanted my life to end. But I was too afraid about what happpened after death. No one would ever stand up for me. Not one person and it felt like I didn't belong on this earth anymore. I tried so hard to be kind to others only to get smacked in the faced and treated as if I never existed. 

When middle school finally ended, I went to a private high school called Chapel Hill Chauncy Hall. I was glad to make a change. Finally, I could start my life all over again. That ended up not being the case. It turned out that I was going to school with one of Donato's best friends and he recognized my name from the numerous stories Donato told him. Including the scissor incident. My dreams of starting fresh didn't last long because Donato's friend, named Jonny, began telling everyone about the scissor incident. And every time he saw me, he told me not to stab him with scissors. Then, during Sophomore year, Jonny became more aggressive towards me and went from verbal abuse to physical abuse. When there were no teachers around, he would begin punching me and tell me he wants to kill me. People who I thought were my friends looked on as he would constantly punch me in the arm. They never told him to stop. Just the opposite. Instead, they encouraged him to hit me and told me to hit him back. I never did. I would go home with bruises blistered up and down my arm. Sometimes he would punch me so much that my arm would feel no pain, just numbness. Eventually, the dean of students found out and spoke with me. I told him the story and he told me he would take care of it. He never did. It continued to the end of the year.

i never felt loved. People who I thought cared about me would go out of their way to harm. there are times when I have mental breakdowns because of the horrors that these kids have caused. My mother and father have always known about the bullying I faced. But, what bothered me most, is that they always wanted me to fight through it. I was worried about my safety when I went to school and pleaded to my parents for me to stay home. But, to my parents, education is the mot important thing in the world. So they never wanted me to miss a school day. This felt like it made life worse. I mean, there were days when I couldn't even lift up my left arm because it was bruised to badly. I was shoved against walls, hit in the face and body as well as verbally abused. Looking back at my life, I am honestly surprised that I am still alive. i don't know how I have been able to live through years of torment that these kids have caused me. They have ruined my life and have made me emotionally scarred. I used to be a kid bursting with energy. I used to talked hours on end about anything. But now, I am anti social, suffering from depression,  and I am no longer am able to talk to girls the same way I was able to before because of what Gabby did to me. What started as a joke has forever scarred me because I thought someone finally cared about me. I've felt lost, I've been judged and I've been abused. But, this will no longer hold me back as I'm now stronger than I've ever have been. 

When I was in like 5th grade I was always bullied for small in all the places that mattered.i was already a skinny girl so it didn't help. All the girls around me were already curvy and I wasn't. For some reason people thought it was important but I was young so I didn't. No matter what I do that's always an insecurity I'll have. I have a boyfriend, I'm 16 now and he sees I struggle with it and feels bad for me. I've learned from that,that everyone's beautiful no matter what size they are

A senior named Justin jumped off of the 3rd story floor in my school. Since we are a school of 400 students we all were impacted. Everyone was silent and crying. As the ambulances sounded their alarms to go to the hospital. We all hugged and talked.

well, i first started getting bullied in pre-k... but i wanna tell you about my time in junior high. when i was 13 and 14 years old. ~ first day of school in a new town and stuff, so i was nervous unlike everyone else. i had 9 classes here, in south dakota.. and it was a lot colder then texas, where im from. but anyways, my first day went okay.. just like every other day you know. but as i started adjusting to the new school, people started spreading rumors about me being a lesbian and that i was dating a 'skank' named meg, my own damn sister. the lesbian thing didn't bother me though because.. well, i am les and im proud but it still hurt. .... anyway, after a few days, it got worse. no one hung out with me, no one talked to me, no one even looked at me. it was like i was a zombie or something............ but then came this new kid named shawn. he was also new to SD and i thought he was hot. hahah. so i did what i could to make he like me and he did. we became awesome friends. he was perfect, like nothing ever happened to me. surprising thing is, he knew my life.. because he lived the same way. after awhile, me and him started dating and everyone loved us. we were the prom king and queen and the junior highs 'cutest couple', which was amazing. but then the worst thing happened, after about a year of dating shawn.. he leaves me for my sister and it breaks my heart. that's when i knew all the bullies would come back, and they did. but people were worse now. they tryed killing me 5 times by suffocating me. i went completely crazy. i attempted suicide 16 times already and iv only lived in south dakota for about 4 months. ~ so, that's my story.. what's yours? did you have a douchebag cheat you off like me? { btw, just some info for you. your worth it! i promise. without you in the world god would be nothing because all he doing is losing another beautiful angel from bullies. so, don't give up okay? i love you

I spent at least two years of high school being terrorized by one girl. It would have been easy to ignore, but she was 6-7 inches taller than I was, and probably 30-40 pounds heavier. She seemed like a giant to me (I'm 5'2" and have been since the 8th grade.) Every time she saw me in the hallway she would give me dirty looks and threaten to kick my ass. When she was with her friends they would say "Hey Becky, isn't that the girl you hate?" or "Hey Becky, aren't you going to kick that girl's ass?" That went on for most of my sophomore, and all of my junior year. I think the only reason it ended was because I only went to school until 11:30 during my senior year, so she just never had the chance to bother me. I also had a job, and several friends from work were college age, so I finally stopped caring about what went on when I was at school. It never occurred to me to say anything to anyone, I thought it was normal to be treated that way. It's not okay to be treated that way, and it's not okay to do that to anyone else. 

Hello, my name is Carri. I'm 18 years old, and I attend Cleveland State University. I major in Early Childhood Education. I want to be a teacher to spread the love of learning. I'm one of the happiest people I know, and I absolutely love everything and everyone in my life. However, my life hasn't always been this perfect. In fact; just a little over 4 years ago, I didn't even want to exist anymore.

It all started in middle school. 6th grade was the beginning. I was being constantly picked on. I have always had long hair, and when I was younger it was harder to tame my hair so it was sort of frizzy. Kids would call me afro-queen, and tell me that I was ugly. When I would get up every morning to go to school, I would call my mom and tell her that I'm not feeling well or I'm too sick to go to school. I was afraid of them. I couldn't take the teasing anymore.

The bullying died down a little bit in 7th grade, but when 8th grade hit; it took a turn for the worst. 8th grade was the first year that I started being recognized by boys, and I liked the attention. I dyed my hair blonde to make myself more attractive. I even made a lot of friends. I thought I was one of the coolest kids in school, the top of the popularity but I was wrong. These "friends" would manipulate me, use me, and make fun of me and I didn't even realize. I had a best friend, I won't mention her name. I thought she was the only person in the world that understood me, but in reality she was the main cause for all the hurt that followed. She would spread lies about me, that I wanted to have sex with all these different boys, and that I was gross. She even took it as far as telling one of my biggest secrets. A personal thing I have to this day only told a select amount of people. I shared with her because I trusted her (or so I thought). While I was being called a whore, and a bitch I began to believe what people were saying about me. That I was useless, and should kill myself. During this time I didn't exactly have a plan of how I was going to do it, I tried several times to tie a belt to my neck and hang myself but I just couldn't do it. I hated my life, I thought the world would be a better place if I wasn't on it. 

I cut myself.. a lot. At the time, it was the only thing that felt right. I knew that I would get attention from it, too. So I mostly cut myself on my left wrist. I knew the consequences of cutting myself, I knew that it could kill me but I didn't care.

That's when another problem surfaced. I began hearing at lunch how girls would lose weight fast if they would make themselves throw up. And I asked myself if people would like me better if I was skinnier so I decided to try it. Making myself throw up hurt so much, that I couldn't do it. So I decided to stop eating all together. I got the results that I wanted, I was skinny and pretty. But something was always missing. I still felt like I didn't belong. 

Then I met a group of people the "outcasts" and you might think of them. I connected with these people so well. However, there was a major role that made me very different from these people. They liked to do drugs, and smoke marijuana. Still to this day I have never done drugs, drank alcohol, or smoked weed. Being straight-edge was always a part of who I am. That made me different, and my outcast friends didn't like that about me. They mostly ignored it, as long as I didn't say anything about them doing it around me. I wanted to befriend them so badly that I didn't care. I began to have a relationship with one of them, and him and I lasted for a while. But my mom didn't approve of him, so I would go behind her back and see him (big mistake!) He would hit me if I complained about him doing drugs, so I kept my mouth shut. Eventually I grew tired of him so I began talking to other boys, and had broke it off with him. But somehow, and even to this day I still don't know how but he would always get my cell phone number (which I change many, many times) and constantly harass me. 

Summer of 2010, I was still cutting. I began talking to a boy named Alexander. Him and I started dating that July and have been happy ever since. He helped me cope a lot with the depression, and the cutting. I haven't cut myself since August of 2010, and I'm very proud to say that.

Honestly, even today I still have urges to hurt myself. That feeling doesn't go away, however I remind myself how beautiful the world is. I remind myself that I am needed here, and that I play a role in this world. 

I was born to love others, and be loved by others.

I am a survivor. A survivor of bullying, of depression, and of the world. I'm a warrior. 

I'm completely healthy now. I'm the happiest I've ever been in my whole life. 

From Kindergarten to the end of 9th grade, I was bullied. There would be days where I was treated like a nobody and nobody talked to me. Those were the good days. On bad days, it would range from being called certain things to being pushed into lockers to my stuff being moved away from a lunch table to where I had to sit and eat lunch by myself. Sometimes I would be tripped in the hallway and get my stuff knocked out of my hands. Did the teachers do anything about it when I reported it? No. They couldn't have cared less. They did nothing to help me.

I was the kid in the back of the classroom who didn't talk to anybody. I was the kid who stayed near the wall to feel protected. I was the kid who got all A's and B's in elementary school. They made fun of me for a lot of things. One thing being that I have always been an old soul. I act older and more mature than my age. I have an older taste in music. I like a lot of old-fashioned things. I think and act like I'm probably 60 something even though I'm not. They made fun of me for being tall. I'm 5'8 now. Maybe 5'9. They always made fun of me for being the tallest in the class. They made fun of me for being in orchestra. They made fun of me for wearing glasses. They made fun of me for getting A's and B's. 9th grade, I started realizing that I AM a modern day hippie. And there's nothing wrong with that. But they made it out like it's a bad thing.

I was the kid to always love everybody no matter what. I don't care if you're rich or poor. I don't care what sexuality you are. I don't care what race you are. I don't care what the color of your skin is. I don't care if you're a boy or girl. I will spread the love even if you hate me. That's how I was raised and that's how I am.

Now, I realize that the bullying made me who I am. I am a loving person. Like I said above, I don't care what your race is, what color your skin is, what your sexuality is, what your gender is. I will accept you for who you are because I KNOW what it's like to not be accepted. I am a second stand first violinist in my high school orchestra. I have an IQ of 121, which is above average. I'm working on bettering my IQ. I play guitar in a band. I also play the piano a little in my free time. I'm in a group called Live Wire, which is an orchestra put together with a rock band. We take songs (like this year we did Spectrum of the Sky by Break of Reality, Kashmir by Led Zeppelin, Radioactive by Imagine Dragons, and Final Countdown by Europe), memorize them, and put choreography to them. So we're not just sitting behind stands. No. We're playing the songs from memory and dancing while we play them. I'm currently in my school's production of Calamity Jane. I'm looking to join my school's choral group Rhapsody in Blue. I'm looking to join ASTRA (volunteer program) and Big Brothers Big Sisters. And honestly, I believe that I strive to reach for my dreams to show the people who tried to tear me down back then what I am worth.

So what I'm saying is that you shouldn't let these people push you down. Kill them with kindness. Spread the love. Instead of fighting someone, walk away and be the better person. Things will get better. I speak from experience. I promise that they will.