I remember standing at the edge of a cornfield, feeling hands lift me and toss me into the mud. I landed face-first in the damp Pennsylvania soil, spitting out dirt as I struggled to get up. My hat, mittens, and coat were thrown around carelessly; later, I was so soaked in mud that the nurse insisted I wear school-issued pants. Bullying is unpredictable—it feels like you can never anticipate what will happen next.
As I walked over to the coat closet, I clutched the special red coat my sister had lent me, the one with the soft fur lining. I had promised to take care of it. A few desks away, I watched Anna snatch it off the hanger, letting it fall to the floor before stomping on it with her dirty boots. I reported it to the teacher, but her indifference stung more than the mud on my face. As I wiped the footprints off, I feared my sister would be furious. I had talked endlessly about how special that coat was, and now the bullies had ruined it. Bullying means you can’t enjoy your possessions without fear.
Friendships were scarce for me. I sat alone at lunch, with no one to confide in or share secrets with. Lacking friends also meant I didn’t have anyone to remind me about personal grooming. When I wore a skirt to school, Sarah and some boys cruelly commented that I looked like a gorilla. That night, I shaved my legs, but the next day, I came to school with a painful gash down my shin. Their laughter pierced through my embarrassment. Bullying means there’s no way to come out on top.
One summer, I owned a gray shirt featuring an English Setter, a breed I adored. While I cherished that shirt, I knew someone would mock me if I wore it. Bullying means you learn to censor yourself, stifling your joy.
During another summer, I spent time with a friend whose brother took pleasure in tormenting me. One day, he hit me between my legs with a stick. As I tried to shield myself, he taunted, “Why are you touching yourself?” Bullying means you feel ashamed even when defending yourself.
High school brought more of the same. Some girls concocted an elaborate story that I was dating my crush. I mistakenly thought I had a boyfriend for a couple of days, though he barely acknowledged me. These girls feigned concern and sent a friend to check on me, only for him to announce loudly, “Ryan isn’t dating you, Lizzie. He never was.” Their laughter echoed in my ears as they then set me up with the most unpopular boy in class, pushing me to kiss him. I didn’t want to, but felt pressured to comply. Their laughter rang again. Bullying means you can’t trust anyone.
One day while chatting with a friend in class, a boy named Allen yelled, “Shut up, Lizzie, you’re ugly!” For a 14-year-old girl, being called ugly is devastating. Bullying means living with crippling self-doubt.
Another time, while preparing for a Latin exam, a boy named Mark turned around and wrote “LEZZIE” on my paper. I couldn’t take it anymore and slapped him, resulting in both of us being sent to the office. Bullying means you can’t even defend yourself without facing consequences.
The relentless nature of bullying was clear. Spitballs flew across the room as I was constantly labeled ugly. One boy and his friends had zeroed in on me as their target. Bullying means facing a crowd alone.
A friend once told me that another was upset with me and no longer wanted to be friends. I spiraled into anxiety, fearing I had lost one of my closest allies. Then, I received a letter written in quirky high school handwriting that ignored everything that had happened. Bullying means you never know when someone will betray you.
From the age of 7 through high school, I was regularly victimized. One of the few who stood up for me was Mia Thompson, who risked her own reputation to do so. I will always admire her bravery, especially in light of the teachers who told me to stop complaining. Mia made a difference. Bullying means you don’t have to stand by and watch; you can take a stand.
The world needs more people like Mia. We require advocates who will say, “That’s not right,” “This isn’t fair,” and “Stop hurting others.” We can be that change. Above all, bullying teaches us that silence is not the answer.
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Summary
This article recounts personal experiences of relentless bullying throughout childhood and adolescence, highlighting the emotional toll and the importance of standing up against it. It calls for more individuals to advocate against bullying and provides resources for further support.
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