I have been bullied before. It started with name calling. I was probally in first grade whenever it started. Not many people liked me for some reason. I guess I came off as weird and creepy. I had one friend that was practically my right hand from the time I started kidnergarten untill about sixth grade when we started to drift appart. She was the only one who made me feel human. Her name was Keri. She's my neighbor, and now that we're older, more mature, and attending the same school again- we've started rebuilding our long lost friendship.
I had other people that I ocasionally talked too, but noone that I would had called a bestfriend. It was fifth grade whenever the name calling switched to fighting. An african american girl named Kayden was my worst enemy. She hated my guts and I never really knew why. Her and I class together. I remember how she'd stare at me with those cold eyes. Looking back now, I wonder if those eyes had a secret or two locked behind them. One day after school, myself among many others were going to the bus lot to head home; I remember wearing a frilly pink dress with flowers all over it, some pink heels, finalized with my circular glasses that I hardly ever took off. Minding my own business carying out my day, out of nowhere I feel a random shove at my back. When I turned around and noticed it was Kayden, I began to feel angry. She had told me sorry for shoving me, that it was an accident, I didn't belive her. I smart mouthed something to her, something most likely along the lines of "Sure" or "Yeah, whatever." Either way she didn't appriciate my lip and before I knew it she had slung me into a pole- I remember the way it stung once my back thrust against the metal. Afterwords I just fell to the ground- she began just punching away at the back of my head. Everyone stood around the two of us. They watched. They cheerd. And they laughed.
Our parents were called, and we were driven home from the principle. I remember my parents telling me that I should always defend myself. It wasn't long after that, that I indeed was the one to take matters into my own hands. I went on to sixth grade, got bullied by few, but the real turn around point was when I transferd out of that particular school. I was finally away from all the people that bullied me, name called me, and laughed at me for not being the girl who stood up for herself.
I repeated sixth grade at a charter school; not because I was dumb and failed, but because I had started to get into too much trouble at my other school. The charter school I was being placed in, only allowed a certain number of kids in per grade. There was no room for me in the seventh grade class, even still my mother refused to let me stay in public school.
There was when it started. Have you ever heard of the saying 'If you're bullied, eventually you yourself will become the bully'? That saying is true. So very true, and i'm a prime example to proove it. At that point in my life, I didn't care anymore what people thought of me really. The people that walked the halls with me were no better than I was. None of them knew me, nor knew my story. I took advantage of peoples ignorance. I wanted them all to think I was -that- girl that noone messed with. If someone shot me a glance I didn't like, I was the first to push them into some lockers. By God if you ran your mouth to me, I'd get in your face and i'd tell you the way it was. There was onyl a handful of people at that school I didn't mess with in the least. Abigail Snook and Madison St' Clair were a few of them. Girls that I admired. At that school a strict three strikes or you're out bullying policy was enforced. I got to three strikes before my first year was over. After you get three strikes, you have to have a meeting with the school board, plead your case, then ask for permission to stay. At the time, I was the only one in the history of that school who had went to the school board and had permission to continue attending. I had the school principle and the school counsoler on my behalf; they knew the type of bullying history I had and after everything, still had enough faith in me to belive I'd suceed.
Now i'm currently a junior in high school. I don't feel like an outcast must anymore, yet I still have that bully lying below the surface. Now I really do have that title where many people say 'she's not one of those girls to mess with'. Because of my boyfriend, I have lots of friends who are guys. They all understand and don't really complain whenever I punch them as a result of being angry. Being a bully isn't a good thing. Standing up for yourself isn't a bad thing. This is one of those situations where you'd have to find the balance within' yourself. I still struggle, and it all started with name calling. I manage better now than ever- and I can deal with the little things like dirty looks and even rumors; but in a way, I still feel as if I didn't handle the entire situation as maturely as I wanted. Despite the things I had to do just to get by.
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