My Story

 
There are memories in my childhood that are still so painful I try not to think about it.  When those memories do come rushing back, the tears begin to flow. It's hard to believe that after all these years; I can feel the sadness as though it were yesterday.

You see, when I was a little girl, I was the victim of bullying.  I had just moved to a new city with my parents and I was starting at a new school.  I missed my old friends, but I hoped I would make some nice new friends.  I was kind of shy and quiet so I was nervous.  But it was exciting.  I didn't know what to expect- but I never expected what happened. 

On my first day of school, the bully in my class decided to single me out.  Looking back- it seems so absurd that someone can randomly pick an innocent child and then terrorize them based on something like their name or the fact that they wear glasses.  It's also hard to believe that this boy had so much power over the rest of the children- no one dared to confront him.  He could make other children join in with the taunting and teasing.

No one would defy him to be my friend.  They were afraid.  This could result in the bully focusing his abuse on them.  Even the teachers ignored the abuse.

Then there were the school rituals that fed right into the bully culture.

When it came to gym class there was a dreaded process that the teachers used to build the teams.  The teachers picked a couple of children to be the "Team Captains", and then those children would pick their teams.  It was so humiliating.  I knew I would be the last one chosen.  I didn't even want to play because the bully and his friends always welcomed the opportunity to hit me with the ball or just run into me and knock me to the ground. 

He made my life a sad and lonely hell.  It wasn't just the taunting and name calling.  At recess he and his friends just tortured me.  Between the taunting and being hurt physically, it was terrorism.  He once hit me in the face with a football and I still remember how badly that hurt.  I cried but no one came to my rescue.

My mother told me to ignore him.  I did.  It didn't change anything.  I had a very ignorant relative that asked me, what was wrong with me?  There must be something wrong with me or the kid would not pick on me. 

I didn't know.  At this point I was confused.  I was only seven years old. Maybe something was wrong with me. But what changed? I had a lot of friends at my old school.  We all got along really well.  I didn't understand.

I had a hard time falling asleep at night because I had a pain in my stomach.  I was afraid of what would happen the next day at school.  I loved Fridays, I cherished my weekend reprieve from the suffering, but I started feeling sick on Sunday morning, knowing it was only a matter of hours...

I prayed and prayed to God to make the bully leave me alone, but the bullying never stopped.  Thankfully after a couple of years the school closed.  I went to a new school.  The bully went to a different school. 

 Everything changed.  I was back to being a normal kid with friends.  Thank God.

That happened to me many, many years ago and yet when I think about it or talk about it, I start to cry.  I cry for that helpless little girl so many years back and I cry for my young nieces and nephews- I never want them to go through anything like that.  And I cry for the children that were bullied so badly they felt there was no way out and they killed themselves.  Now their parents and brothers and sisters will always wish they had done something.   No innocent child deserves to be bullied. 

I believe the solution is education.  Everyone needs to be aware of the signs of bullying and what to do when you spot a situation.  That is why I wrote a short handbook with some great resources.  You can get your copy  here.