Memoirs of a Bullied Kid

It seems that there is another pink shirt initiative--international and also originating from the same incident in Nova Scotia-- on Feb 24. This may be a link to the more official site http://www.standupday.com/08/participants/index.ph... I'm sure it doesn't actually matter what and when it gets done as long as it does. I think that I will actually support more grass roots events that involve wearing any pink shirt and decorating them with one's own slogans. Never-the- less the story is important and the attention to the problem of bullying is bound to help.

February 29 is Pink Shirt Day. Check out the story at http://www.pinkshirtday.ca/about/ This is a great time to plan for an initiative in your children's school or in your community. Involve the media. Let's all wear pink shirts to show our support for safe and caring communities!

I was often bullied because I was in foster care. Children said horrible things to me about my real parents not wanting me and the reason I was not adopted was because no one wanted me. I had already thought these things to myself, especially after I found out that the system was paying my foster parents more money to take me because I was a "hard to place child". I went through every kind of abuse there is, physical, sexual, emotional, all of them. I felt unwanted and unloved. Then I moved in with the parents who did adopt me, and dad once told me that anyone can be a parent, it takes special people to be a mom and dad. He told me that I never had to call him dad if I didn't want to, I could call him Philip if I chose to, he never wanted to force me to do anything that made me uncomfortable. I was calling him dad within a few months of living there. When kids would make fun of me for being adopted after I was I would say "You know what? Your parents got stuck with you, mine CHOSE me." I think that may have been a bit of bullying on my part, but at the same time they quit making fun of me after that. I once had a guy tell me I was the "ugliest girl he had ever laid eyes on" and for a minute I wanted to cry, then I had a thought and I turned to him and said "Well, you must not have had your eyes open for that long then huh?" and walked away. I had another guy on the bus for months who would ask me what corner my mom and I worked so that he would know to stay away cause no one wants cheap hookers. I let this go on for a while, then one day I turned in my seat and looked him square in the eye and realized he had a uni-brow. I then (once again a bit of bullying on my part) said to him "You know, my mom and I may be hookers, but at least we have two eyebrows to do it with." He never spoke to me again, neither good nor bad. I ran into him years later and he saw me and he walked up to me and said "I have felt so bad for years when I think of how I treated you." I laughed and told him "it was no big deal, I was over it a long time ago." He nodded but then said "If you hadn't said what you said to me, I would never have realized how much what I said to you really hurt, because no one had ever made fun of my eyebrow." Then he laughed a little, and then I apologized and he told me "no, i deserved exactly what you said to me. That was what really made me think" If it weren't for my dad constantly telling me how awesome I was because I was chosen to be his daughter, how beautiful I was even when I was sick, how I could do anything if I just put a little effort into it, I might have believed all those kids lies to me, especially considering they were often in my thoughts before the other kids voiced their opinions of it as well. I also learned to laugh at myself. I accepted the fact that I was clumbsy and goofy and didn't always think logically and the moment I accepted the fact that I was truly a "dork" I began to see life in a much clearer way. I'm proud to be different, I'm proud to be adopted, and I have accepted my past with the good and the bad, because it has made me into the woman I am today. I am 4 months pregnant with my first child and I worry all the time that he or she will be bullied and not know how to handle it. But then I think I can tell them of my own experiences, and tell them how awesome they are because they are unique and love them for who they are and allow them to be what they want and perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, I can help them turn into the rescuers of the 'weak' the courageous one who stands up for everyone when no one else will. I have great hopes that I have learned many things "Not to do" and hopefully the rest will come to me when I need it.

I was told by the principle at my son's school that the bulling was his fault because he was "different".........

He was in 6th grade and was bullied until he reached high school by the whole class

You and cinderella13 hit it. We may never be able to "stop the bullies". I was horribly bullied as an adolescent and it caused a ripple effect of bad decisions. My 16 year old son was also bullied throughout middle school, however, he came out the other side confident and intact and believes THE KEY to not being a victim is to learn to be ok with yourself exactly as you are. You can't pretend not to care what they say or "just ignore it". You have to actually not care because you are ok with who you are. When that becomes unshakeable, then you are no fun to pick on anymore and they move on. The most important message to help the victims according to him - YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH. Find every way possible to reinforce that.

I share your pain - your experience was more extreme than mine.But mine i think was just as effective. I still hate myself at 48.

Continued from last post. Some people around me are negative about this world but I believe we can change. I was very fortunate that in each job, when I was bullied, I had someone that helped me in whatever way they could, I have great family and I still believe I am a good person, in fact I know that to be a target for a bully you have to have a lot of great qualities that they love to hate and wish they had. Like Lily Palmer said in the blog, you really need to love yourself. You are somebody special. Trust me, you are all wonderful people, that’s what makes you a great target but I’d rather be me because I like the me I am even if it makes me a target.

I am reading every post as it comes in and each one feels like a piece of my life. I want so much to be able to help others and stop the bullying. Although I count myself as a survivor, the scars remain. I didn't even realize I had scars until I got another job after the last bully incident at work (it was bad). I had a hard time believing that adults bully. I had a hard time understanding why someone would intentionally try to hurt someone who would never hurt anyone. I came to the realization that I can no longer take even the smallest criticism, I get a panic attack. I used to be confident in my abilities but now I doubt myself. I was always happy, cheery. I still am most of the time, on the outside at least, and I still believe that there are a lot of really good people in this world...I really do. I really believe we have to stop the hate and I will never give up trying. continued in next post due to character limit??

I'm 53. I was always the new kid, the youngest, smallest, least athletic...and smartest. That's not boasting; I don't recall when I couldn't read, and was studying college level math at age 7. All of that made me different enough to be a target; I don't remember a year in school when I wasn't bullied. In 5th grade one of the boys rode his bike over my foot and broke a bone. My mom called the principal, whose response was "what do you want me to do about it?"

It left me questioning my worth and my abilities, with little self-confidence. I still fight those demons. When my superiors tell me I'm lazy and unproductive and worthless, <i>I believe them</i>. Never mind that I graduated law school at 23. Never mind that I've had civil rights cases I won make the national news. Never mind that abused teenagers I've mentored have gone on to become physicians and judges. I know what my accomplishments are, and yet when someone starts to put me down, I still believe them. I was lucky; I had my mother and grandmother. They tried to convince me that being different could be good. They succeeded in convincing me how much they loved me, even if they couldn't shield me from the world.

But what sticks in my mind was how I gained a champion, also in 5th grade. "Larry" was a notorious bully, always fighting. "Moe", was just as bad, but sneakier. One day something happened in class while our teacher's back was turned. A chair was knocked over, or some books thrown - some sort of loud disruption. Our teacher whirled around, strode down the row, grabbed Larry's shoulders and started shaking him.

I sat behind both boys, and I'd seen it all. I didn't think about it. I jumped up and grabbed our teacher's arm, screaming. "It wasn't Larry! He didn't do it, it was Moe. Please, Mr. Jones, it wasn't Larry!" Once my outburst penetrated, Mr. Jones turned and looked down at me, still sobbing, still clinging to his arm. He released Larry, turned to the class, and asked if what I said was true. Heads nodded. Moe sat frozen. Mr. Jones wrote a note, sending Moe to the office with it. I don't know if he apologized to Larry.

But things changed for both Larry and me. He wasn't accused of every misbehavior, his grades suddenly went up, and he stopped picking fights for no reason. And no one messed with me for the rest of the year, at least not if Larry was near. It didn't stop the social exclusion, but it did stop the name-calling and physical bullying. Life was okay after that, until we moved yet again.

I will, I think, keep this anonymous, as most people don't have any idea I still struggle with self-esteem and self-confidence. That isn't what I project at all. But anyone who says you "get over" being bullied is wrong. The scars last forever.

When I was in middle school I felt horribly bullied. I remember dreading school every day but especially PE class and the abuse that happened in the girls locker room. I didn't feel like I had anyone to turn to because most of my bullies were the preps, the athletes, the people who made the best grades and whose parents made the most money. One time this girl sang a song to me about how poor I was...I thank God I can't remember how it went now. I had a best friend in elementary school who decided to cut ties with me by the end of 6th grade. I had other friends who borderline bullied me or tried to tell me how to be something I was not, so I would be more acceptable.. 6th and 7th grade were probably the peak of all this and my grades really started to suffer during these years. I was always one of the smartest kids in class but I started ditching school to have some relief. I witnessed my mother struggle with mental illness at a very young age and I already had depression probably at the age of 10, 11. I felt unloved by my parents at times because I didn't "have" what other kids had, so I didn't go to them for support when I needed it. I was always grateful to have my big sister, who could relate. I still envied that she always seemed to have a big group of friends and that she had so much strength to shake it off. Our brother had a developmental disability and people bullied us for this, as if it was something that reflected badly on us. I remember wishing my brother was different and as I grew up I realized how much power I gave others, to make me resent my own brother for who he was. I started smoking pot around the age 15 because I wanted to feel different. It opened up new friendships and relationships I wouldn't have had otherwise. It wasn't healthy, I did a lot of drinking and drugging for years to come. I went to college and didn't know how to make friends who weren't substance abusers. I remained in romantic relationships that were unhealthy and unloving because I lacked self-esteem. I battled addictions, depression, anorexia, bulimia, obsessions, and had horrible issues with internalizing anger. I still lack an ability to be assertive and work in a job where my boss runs me over and puts me down. I DO HAVE A WONDERFUL LIFE NOW where I am overcoming my depression and no longer have serious addiction or self-loathing problems..but I do still have my moments where I have a hard time forgiving myself or chastise myself when I make mistakes. My job requires working with mentally ill people and teaching them self-esteem, stress management, social skills, and other skills that I feel far from having mastered. The process of trying does enrich my life and I know that I matter and what I do matters, but it is still an every day struggle to love myself, to not judge others harshly, and to communicate assertively.

I keep coming back to this. I see all these comments where readers are sharing their experiences but I am not there yet. I am still far too broken to share my stories. I will say that I had my first bully in Kindergarten and that was 20 years ago. My most recent bully was in the workplace within the last year so I am still suffering from these feelings of self hate. I have terrible self esteem and with that comes a lack of confidence which makes it hard to stand up for yourself.

I wish I was strong enough to share the stories of my torment but for now, I cannot. I do thank you for this though as it was an excellent read.

Well, at least you have a busy social life....

Hmmm..... but since I don't exist I can't be reading this. Frankly, I just think the people who write that stuff are unreal. I can't even imagine them.

So... in that case... am I actually real?

My head hurts.

You know... I didn't take philosophy in college for this very reason!

This truly is an outstanding article. Not only does it detail a handful of examples depicting the variant forms of bullying, but it also touches on possible solutions and resources for solutions. This article is a keeper.

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/700212212/Bulli...

I agree with a lot of your sentiments, however, standing up to your bully is not always the solution. Sometimes, using your voice can make things worse.

The best way to end the bullying is for parents to show their children more compassion. Let them know that they are cared about.

I was intensely bullied from the earliest I can remember, by my older brother. To this day, I don't know what my parents were thinking to allow it to continue. He hit and harassed me until I was 12. Any time I fought back, I was physically punished, yet he was stealthy enough that he never was.

I spent all the time I could away from my house. I lived for over nights at friends' homes and for summer camp.

After the constant abuse ended, there was one last incident in which he attempted to molest me and apparently he actually thought our parents might listen when I threatened to complain to them.

The worst part is that our much younger sister idolizes him and thinks his teasing was "hilarious" despite the fact that it was never directed at her (when I was 12, she was 6...I don't think she can really remember what it was like for me during the most intense part).

We're all in our 50s. This is still difficult for me. I hated my childhood and attempted suicide at 16. Sometimes I still even wish I'd succeeded. Our parents are dead now and I'm actually kind of relieved that I can now break the ties.

Dan,

First I want to say that you have such a gift for putting the inner most workings of your own heart and thoughts into words. That is such a gift! Not everyone can do that. I wish everyone had the ability and courage to be as authentic and honest as you are. And you know what? Maybe we all do, we just have to choose to do it.

I was sort of bullied in Middle School and High School. I had some girl friends that lived in my neighborhood and one time they called me sasquache because I had hair on my legs. (I was 13 and I wasn't allowed to shave my legs yet*) Because of peer pressure, I ended up shaving them and got grounded!

My freshman year of High School, one of those same neighborhood girls who was supposed to be my best friend, she decided to cut her bangs. They were a tad short but would have been fine in about a week. Well. She came over to my house, and because we were butt buddies and did everything together, I wanted her to cut mine too. Not such a great idea. Did I mention she was extremely possessive and manipulative? I didn't know it at the time. My bangs were wet and she cut them too short. I'm talking Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber short. Although Jim's were at least cut in a straight line. Mine ended up too short and crooked as all get out. They were butchered and this was in August, right before my freshman year of High School started. Everyone knows your freshman year is soooo important! That's when you try to make your best entrance! Some very mean guys at school went around calling me "Bangs" forever. It was awful. Horrible. I found out my Sophomore year that this "best friend" of mine cut my bangs like that on purpose....and she constantly told me I was pretty just so I would say it back to her. I'm still angry about it and working on forgiving this girl. I realize it was her own insecurities that pushed her to do something so mean and heartless and I feel bad for her now. She has two girls of her own now and I wonder if she has passed along her manipulative mean ways, or if time has caused her to think about what she did and maybe she's chosen to teach her kids better. Who knows. I hope so.

I am so sorry you went through what you went through. I'm so sorry no one spoke up for you, or stepped in for you. Sometimes I wonder if God allows things to happen because of a future calling on our lives. I believe you are called to be a voice in this specific area and in this specific generation. If you hadn't have gone through what you went through, you wouldn't be a voice of understanding to those who are going through the same things at this very moment.

Keep up the amazing blog. You are so beautiful, so gifted, so real and so needed in our world today. I hope you know that deep within your very bones.

You are awesome :)

Thank you for this. It mirrors my own school experiences almost exactly, except that I dropped out to get away and only went back years later. When I told my parents what was going on, they asked me what I was doing to cause the bullying "because you are such a difficult person to get along with, you know." You are one brave guy for sharing.

I was always a bit of an outcast. I'm an introvert, and the world is run for and by extraverts. I'd be willing to bet that most bullied and many bullies are introverts as well. I was lucky enough to always have one or two good friends at any given time growing up. I was never nearly as depressed as you describe, but I do remember hating the bus to school in particular, probably because there's nowhere to run. I always related better to the adults around me than my peers, because my thinking was always bigger than average for my age.

My experience with bullying peaked in middle school. I always blamed it on the hormones of puberty. Boys needing to prove themselves. You might be smarter than me, but I can beat your ass! I only once got in trouble for fighting, and when the kids realized I would fight back, they backed down considerably. My memory of middle school which causes me the most regret is the thought that I turned my anger toward the weaker kids around me. To make myself feel better I picked on others. It's a shame that I wasn't smart enough to figure it out at the time.

But then I remember how in high school everything changed. By tenth grade I was loving life. I don't know if the bullies grew up, or if my attitude changed, but things were good from there on. There were some kids who were still unappealing to me, but I never bullied them, I simply avoided them.

Now that I'm grown and have my own kids, I'm faced with how to teach my children to take care of themselves and others. My goal is to teach them to recognize bullying, and stick up for the bullied. I am a firm believer that it is more important to behave ethically than to follow "the rules." My kids will know that I will have their backs no matter what. One time my kids were playing in the tube maze at Chuck E Cheese and some brat was trying to choke my daughter. Fortunately I yelled at him and he went crying to his mommy, who then got a piece of my wife's mind. That day I sat my son down and told him if he ever saw anyone hurting his sister he had my full permission to beat the piss out of the other kid, and in fact, I expect him to. If I recall, he asked me how to handle it if the kid was bigger than him, and I said just do your best and yell for help. As far as ordinary bullying with no immediate physical threat, I try to teach the three strikes rule - tell them to cut it out, tell an authority figure, then take matters in your own hands if necessary. Obviously if the world worked the way it ought to, no one should make it past the second strike - others should step in to help, especially teachers or other adults who may be witnesses.

I'm torn on this. I agree with you on most of it....but don't think that just putting an arm around the popluar girl who gains her status from tormenting others will be enough to stop her....she will just mock and continue the behavior. You mentioned that nobody did anything....well, what could they do that wouldn't make it worse? If the teacher actually called the bully out or tried to do more, the typical result is the bully takes out his embarassment or anger on the bullied kid. We learn quickly that involving parents or teachers won't fix the problem.

Love is the solution. Amen. But I was bullied by the mean girl at school....and she was the same mean girl at church. There was no escaping her or her friends. Until I was surrounded by other people, I never had a chance to see that things could change. I did have people who helped by putting me in situations where I had a chance to succeed or with other people who were not influenced by her. That helped more than confronting her or having someone teach her to love herself.

What really saved me was guilt. I know it sounds weird, but I couldn't kill myself or really hurt myself (even though I wanted to) because I knew I was a child of God. I knew HE loved me even though HE didn't save me from my pain. I knew that HE would be disappointed in me if I quit trying. My parents were not enough. My teachers attention wasn't enough (it just got me labled as a brownnoser and tormented more). What was enough was realizing that even though life sucked then, potential to change was there. I was accountable to someone who wasn't tormenting me, wasn't yelling at me and wasn't part of the problem. Faith in God was the fine line between my sister and me. I made it through in one piece...she didn't.

If you want to help...don't lie or sugarcoat it. High school isn't the "best time of our life". And if it is, the rest of your life will be a waste. It's hard and miserable but life will get better. Teaching our children and being an example that life DOES get better after high school and showing that faith in something beyond our understanding can be a strength will save our bullied kids. I don't care what religion, faith or external force they can cling to, having an outside safe zone to talk or just see hope will make a difference.

I read this article all the way to the end. I've been there. I know what it's like to be bullied.But I also know what it's like to make friends with a new kid in school who's not being accepted. There was this "shy" girl once that was awkward and quiet and some of the students really distanced themselves. I always found the new kids interesting as their parents came from the nearby military base and the kids had been to interesting places. One day, "new girl" brought artichokes in her lunch box - yes, we carried lunch boxes way back then. My response was something like Wow! What are those? How do you eat them? She shared her artichokes with me and we became friends. Well, I wasn't unpopular myself. I was one of the smartest kids in class. I was shy, but it was OK. The others respected me. And they took a new interest in "new girl". She was able to fit in and shine. I'll always remember her. She was smart, cute and had a wonderful sense of humor. And if she recognizes herself in this post, I hope she'll get in touch and tell me how she's doing.

This article says it all and Im thankful you wrote it (somewhat :{ I'm a mom of a 6th grade who is miserable and so to read this tears me up even more. His stories are the same-some things a few worse. This a child who two years ago was friends with everyone. I have talked the school several times they claim to be helping but not sure how or where. I want him to read this because at the end you showed hwo you can turn it around. Thank you. chirsty

I look back and wonder how I ever allowed people to make me feel less than I am, unworthy of being here, that I wasn't a "real" human being. I remember how I thought I would never get a date in high school because I didn't play football not to mention that I wanted to date the football team. I was a dorky, a skinny, non-sports playing, blue haired, lipstick-eyeliner wearing gay boy that loved theater, the arts, (with the middle name Francis). - I was tormented, teased and made fun of relentlessly. Suicide was a viable option for me; an out, if you will, from the heinous self-loathing imposed upon my psyche. I thought the world would be much better off if I wasn't here. And I sat with a razor contemplating...I couldn't do it, something stopped me and it was then that I knew how much I loved myself. I had to be a part be part of this world. I look back now, not on the horrible atrocities that I went through but on the amazing gifts and experiences and love my life has given me: the smiles I have put on peoples faces, the hands I been able to hold, the first real kiss, falling madly deeply crazy in love with a man so much more than any football player I had fantasized about, walking my twin sister down the isle so she could do the same, being able to create paintings that move and touch people, laughing with friends, crying with friends, watching my nephews grow up, having someone I admire value me and say “hey you're a cool guy”, I cherish the fact that I am different, unique. I celebrate my individuality and am so glad that I am more than my potential, worthy to be here and that I am a "real" human being. To everyone in my life (bullies included) thank you and know that you are in my heart.

I wanted to share this almost immediately once I clicked on the link from my friend's Facebook wall. I had just finished talking to my friend about my past a few days ago, and the most I can remember were all moments where I was being shoved around, bullied, hated for being "fat" or "stupid". Silly things that children would come up with in Elementary school.

Of course it got worse in Middle School, and was even made fun of for my developing figure and I remember distinctly a guy directly harassing me because of my butt. It's kind of scarred me, and as much as I try to tell myself I'm beautiful, and a wonderful girl, I still have problems believing it. I didn't really start working on my self esteem issues until High School, when I moved out of state.

The real changes came in my first semester of College. I have finally been able to look people in the eye and tell them what I'm thinking. I want more than anything for all children to feel love, to never be pushed to that length. It breaks my heart when I think of the kids who bullied me, and all their "lackeys", if you will. I'm sure all of them was going through a tough time at home or within themselves, and I don't hate them anymore. I pray for them.

Thank you so much fro writing this post. I've shared it, and I want to share it for a long time.

Sarah

Thank you. Thank you so very, very much. I was bullied as a child from first grade until the end of high school. I didn't even realize some of the ways I processed it (being awful at home, etc) until reading this piece. My husband was bullied so badly he doesn't even remember most of his childhood...

I was the smart girl, and eventually, due to the stress of the bullying, the smart, fat girl. Who was tall, and out spoken, and even dared to stick up for other kids who got bullied. I remember being "asked out" for someone else and it being a joke. I remember only going to two dances in high school (the first being a disaster and the second with a date from the other side of the state... and I was bullied about him too). To this day I'm still insecure about my weight and fat jokes... my family still doesn't get that their teasing was part of the problem.

We have a 5 yr old daughter, and we do all we can to not only instill a sense of self-worth for her, but the desire to stand up for others, and show then the kind of loving kindness we missed from our peers as children. I teach "Sunday school" at a Buddhist temple in my hometown, I think that bullying and other social pressures will make their appearance in our curriculum - I know they didn't when I was a kid (youth group kids bullied me more than others).

The world needs to hear our stories... our children need to hear our stories... otherwise it will never change.

I want to thank you for this article.....I was also bullied heavily when I was in grade 7 & 8....only 2 years you say?? Well, it damaged for life as far as I can see, so ya, 2 years. I was called names liek you wouldn't believe. I was skinny, but not really ugly from what I remember. I was followed home from kids who were supposed to take the bus....threatened, called at my house, and threatened. I also never told a soul. When the phone rang, I would cringe. My Mother would hand the phone to me, not knowing what I was about to hear. I tried to "deal" witht hings myself, but how can a 12 or 13 year old possibly know how to "deal" with this?? I did have one person try to help me....the librarian. She must have seen this, must have seen how I all of a sudden withdrew during those 2 years. She hugged me, literally. She let me cry on her shoulder, literally. I got bullied for getting help.

I say it ruined my life because I don't see myself as attractive, desired, I have low self esteem, I crave attention and approval from EVERYONE around me. I need to be perfect, fit in.

I am going to save this article for when my kids are older and need some guidance, as my babies didn't come with a handbook at birth, so I too, as a parent, need help from people like you Dan, in parenting ALL of our children. So thank you in advance for this article, I may be reading it again in 7 or so years......xoxo

After the whole getting pelted with rocks thing, i spent the remainder of my school days in the library, with other bullied kids.

This was just one of three most influential incidents that occurred during my time being bullied. Those times were not fun, i swear I was goth before I knew what goth was. I went home dressed in black and listened to classical music in a small ball. Any how my one good friend who was not bullied was going to be taken from me.

This new girl came into the school had transferred in, she decided I was too weird to be Tara's friend. Both of us did not like this, we just wanted to hang out and thought we could all come to an understanding, but nope this girl was hell bent on stripping me of this friendship. Over the years she had succeed. With the help of other bullies a good friend was a stranger.

Now what I find some what hilarious is this.. in the 8th grade when I was officially a weirdo freak and apparently every girl was dating and every boy was dating. A few of the students wanted to hook me up...yeah that right some of those darn kids wanted to see me dating...wtf... I had no interest in doing that stuff. In my mind i did not think having a boyfriend would make me a woman. ( Also i had no interest in guys)

So...one day in religion class ( wow this sounds like a start of a bad movie...) Some of the kids took concern of my hook up failing, but it was a mutual thing....so remember that girl that took my best friend away from me... Here is where it gets interesting. She decided that now, right now was the time to be nice...and supportive. " Hey if you are a lesbian, that's alright. I will support you." I do not remember if i laughed in my head or out loud ( sure she was right about the whole lesbian thing..) but the fact that my enemy was reaching out to me..seemed so fake and weird...

Any how...thank gods for high school and college where i found kindred spirits and came to terms with well being me. So thus is my story. Without my friends later in life..I have no idea what would of happened to me...

former bullied girl here. Where to start this darn thing. I guess with my middle school life, because the instant I transferred to a different school in second grade ( Ironically a catholic school, you will see why its ironic later on..) Both me and my little brother were bullied. Although I am not exactly sure what my brother had to suffer, but The wacky red tape of the "privileged" went all the way to the adults in the school system.

So lets start here. For years and year, my whole school yard life I was horribly bullied. For reasons I can fathom to be, me being weird and a string bean. I was bullied. I did however have a few friends through this process who happened to love me for my creative werido artist mind. Most of them were also bullied, with the exception of my friend Tara.

The bullying started with name calling and strange looks, people saying I had cooties and should not be around me because they viewed me as a person who carried some sort plague. I knew my place within the culture quickly, most of the "popular" kids excluded me from groups or picked me for last. They made it very known to me i was not like them. Through the years the teasing got worse.

After years of name calling and being left out, the bullying got physical. ( Now here comes the ironic part) One day at recess, most of the bullies decided to get together and throw rocks at me as I walked by. It was a really shocking thing, i mean hello were'nt we taught not to do this. I mean come on this is catholic school, last time I checked i did not commit some crime. In my mind I knew why, because they viewed me as a freak and a weirdo. Just the action shocked me and I had also decided not to be part of that culture any more. Every where i was seeing hypocritical actions and thought patterns. I thought why be part of this..why be part of something that its own people could not follow. It was not till late high school and college i actually meet people who actually stood up to the faith they had followed.

Dan, I was bullied in Junior High as well, only most of my bullying was physical. The bully's were a year older than me, and would constantly punch me in my upper arms, or grabbing my lower arm and doing an "indian burn". I was never hit in the face, just the arms, shoulders, back, and stomach. I was afraid to tell anyone, teachers included, because they always promised retaliation, and since I knew what that was going to be, I kept silent. Lucky for me, my principal caught them in the act. He brought me into his office and explained to me how he was bullied as well, just as I was, due to his size. See, it's not always overweight kids that get picked on; I was small and skinny, and an easy target. He said he learned to box, and that helped him overcome his fear of being punched. Well, I went home that night scared to tell my dad, until he came to my room with a pair of boxing gloves he picked up from a garage sale. These were the "old" kind, with very little padding. We put them on and squared off in our living room, with my mother thinking were going to have some fun. Little did she know my dad was not going to be having fun with me. My first "punch" was on my cheek, and down I went. I cried like crazy, my mom flipped out, and my dad looked down at me with tears in his eyes. "Did that hurt?" he asked. "No," I replied. "Then do it again; this time HIT ME". So I did, and it felt good. My father taught me to box that night, and at school when the bully's picked on me again, hitting me in the arm, I reached to the ground for a round house that took that kid literally out of his shoes. In front of the teachers. In front of the other kids. In front of the principal. I was never picked on again by that kid, nor any other kid, the rest of my junior high and high school years. Why? I defended myself, and that is something most bully's don't expect OR WANT you to do. They want you to take it, so they can release whatever pent up anger and hate they have inside them. They want to release their issues on you. So, don't take it. Stick up for yourself as soon as the bullying starts. Don't let it go too far so you feel such low self-esteem, or feel like killing the other kids. It's especially hard for little guys, like I was, to do any fighting back. We are half the size of the bully's. Large or overweight kids that get picked on can easily fight back; they just need to have courage!

I used to attend the "JusSomeone" hate club meetings. Yes, there really was one. They would sing:

"We hate you Someone, Oh yes we so, We hate you Someone, we truly do, whenever your near us....PEEEYOU, oh someone we hate you!"

Kids who I thought were my friends. I would sit through them discussing why they hated me so and when they were done I would as "What do you want to do now?" It wasn't because I was strong or understanding, it was because I didn't find it unusual for people to hate me. Or to say or act as though they hated me. I came from a large family, Dad was an abusive alcoholic and Mom was so emotionally abusive, I never had a meaningful relationship with her as an adult. My siblings, although close in age, were not my friends, we were fellow bullies, vying for approval from our parents. By being mean. A while went by with the hate club and a few mothers caught on to what was going on. They told their kids to write an apology note. I have it to this day in my scrapbook. "Dear Jus Someone, We are sorry that we had your hate club, but at that time we thought you were very stupid". My former best friend's signature was not on it...she said they were supposed to sign it for her. It was signed by four others.

I had a few friends in college. It's hard when you won't let yourself get close to anyone. I never dated. Looking back, there may have been a few boys who showed interest. I pushed them away - thinking that anyone who liked me must have something wrong with them. I wasn't ugly - not beautiful, but kind of cute.

Somehow, I met a man who seemed to like me, claimed to love me. I didn't get it, but grabbed on with both hands. There might never be anyone ever again who loves me. We're married, have 2 kids. My marriage isn't great - but I love my kids desperately. Somehow, I've raised my older daughter to be happy with herself. I'm not sure about my younger one. I hope so, but I see glimmers of the doubt that used to be in my eyes, in her face sometimes. I've tried talking about it, we spend a lot of time together. Both of them have stepped in to stop the bullies when they are bullying other kids. I am so proud of that.

What stinks is that I am still the same broken person on the inside that I was when I was 10. I have friends - some really good friends. I put on a really good front. People see me as happy, funny, confident, smart. Everyone once in a while, I almost feel like I am those things. But, every time something happens, I think it's my fault. I blame myself. I don't really like myself. I don't reach out to make new friends - I don't trust people. It takes a really long time for me to consider you a friend. Not because I don't like them, I just can't believe they would want me to be their friend.

I would never kill myself because I have my two girls who need me - even though they are older now, I would never do that to them. But if something happened to them? I'd be gone. I'd find a way.

Wow - I didn't know all this was still inside. I need to go fix my makeup before someone comes home & sees all the tears. Even if no one reads this, I think it helped to finally tell someone.

I can't stop my tears. This was me. It started in 5th grade when we moved to a new area. I was the kid from a "rich" city who moved to a blue collar town. I didn't know why people were mean to me. They called me names. I would have NEVER, EVER have told anyone. I was so ashamed that something was SO WRONG with me that even my few "friends" were mean to me. I would have never told my parents. Ever. EVER. No matter how much time they spent with me. That was 1973. I don't know how long it took for me to hate myself. Probably not long. But I wasn't your typical bullied kid. I was smart & did very well in school. It was the only thing that made me feel worth something. On the outside, I was a happy kid. On the inside, I wanted to die.

Middle school was no better. Some random 9th grader decided she hated me & ransacked my locker. Pushed me into lockers, called me names. I'd never seen her before, I don't know what I did wrong. Moving to high school...Now, the bullying came in the form of "teasing." People would say the meanest things, but if then they said "I was just kidding, can't you take a joke?' I was supposed to forget the horrible things they said. I can't count the number of times I heard "I'm only kidding." I started laughing with them... at myself... hoping it would stop. Nobody knew how miserable I was. Not my parents, not my teachers, not my few friends. But, I never felt like they were real friends because I was unlovable. How could they really like me? I would never let them close enough to hurt me again. I look back & realize that I was unkind to a few people who did try to get close to me.

But, I got good grades & got into a really good engineering college. Why didn't anyone know I was broken on the inside?

I didn't consider killing myself until college. There are probably 2 reasons that I didn't. 1. I was afraid to figure out how to commit suicide, because I thought if I knew how, I just might do it. 2. I was afraid that, when I died, I might be able to "look down" and see that nobody at all missed me. The thought of knowing that nobody missed me was worse than the pain I felt then.

Later his dad came by to talk to me. His dad was a Mentor for Big Brothers Big Sisters of America. He and his dad got me through some of the roughest years of my life. Now as an adult I am a Mentor. I help kids who are bullied or abused. I give them that one human connection that says "its not your fault." And sometimes that is all it takes. But I also do something unique as a Mentor. I seek out the bullies and I mentor them. The kids who bully are bullied themselves in another part of their life. I look at them and I tell them. "It is not your fault." If we really want to stop the cycle we will start not by condemning the bullies but by finding out why. Why do they bully? Why do they lash out and hurt others? Why do they seek out attention this way? I'm not condoning bullying, nor am I belittling what others have gone through. Your anger and pain is justified. You were bullied and abused and hurt. But those of us who are in positions of authority. Those of us who can see what is happening need to step in and ask 'Why?' And we need to ask it with the intent to help. The answer is not enough, we have to be willing to actually do something. Mentoring is a great way to do this but you have to be willing to mentor those who bully as well as those who are bullied. As a previously bullied girl it wasn't easy to forgive the abuse. But it was necessary to prevent the continuation of the bullying. Of the kids who bullied me I remember only the boys. The name calling from the girls was less hurtful to me than the physical bullying from the boys. Of the boys who bullied me three of them were brothers and went on to become abusive to their spouses, they became substance abusers and they got into trouble with the law. And it came out that those three had been abused by their parents. They were victims of bullies themselves. The two other boys who made up the pack of bullies that were my childhood bane were being bullied by an overly aggressive sports coach. They got help. From the same Mentor who took me under his wing. They are now strong young men who have gone on to become a Pastor and a Doctor. They have both apologized repeatedly to me. I have forgiven them and I have kept in touch. All because someone reached out and said "Its not your fault."