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I didn't want to believe.
If there's something I know, about little kids, it's that they tell the truth, no matter how cruel it may seem. It seems as if there the only ones you can trust. And many of them like I, believe it's normal, until one day, the day strikes and then they finally get it. More then 60% of teens and even children have a story to tell on bullying. Whether it start's when they enter middle school, or even second grade, or if it's there looks or differences.
My story start's off at age 8, the beginning of 3rd grade, when a little boy came up to me and without a hello, or a warning called out "You look like fat giraffe." Now, looking back it might not seem like a big deal, there just words, and ignorant silly ones at that, but when your young, you don't understand then so I laughed it off like any other would. Though it stayed on my conscious.
After that little boy, let's call him Hunter, called me that, it started a monkey see, monkey do and bandwagon effect. Every day my younger self would hear "Your so awkward"
"Your face is so round and fat"
"Your eyes are too small!"
"Your stupid, why don't you talk"
It went on to the end of the year. I had no friends by then as well, they started to believe the others and even some I walked home with. After a while I began to believe them too, but I refused to acknowledge it. Just like any other girl, I believed in rainbows, sunshine, true love. That everything is good.
Now picture a 9 year old about 5 feet tall and noticibally obese, looking at her reflection and already beginning to hate herself.
My mother wanted me to transfer schools. I always shook my head at this suggestion but over the summer I lost weight. I ran 3 miles each day, would only drink water and eat fruits with fish. I dieted like hell that summer, and it wasn't the last time I did either. And when my mother would ask if it was because of kids at my school. I'd come up with an excuse. I didn't want to believe my reality.
The first day of school came and nothing really changed, I still had some meat on my bones, and I was still awkwardly tall and already growing more advanced then all the other girls in my class. That year went the same, Words were said, I'd take them all in and hate myself more and more. But refuse to believe it, or to accept that I was one of those girls in movies. But when I did I would always think , then there must be a happy ending for me, a freak. No one labeled me that word out loud till middle school years.
The summer came again. And , that summer I dieted more, I ran all the time, I barely ate, I read magazines everyday trying to find ways to make myself ,well, Beautiful. Anorexia and Obsession. Though I didn't know, or realize. Even if I did, I wouldn't believe it.
5th grade had to be the year where it grew worse, I was no longer fat, or chubby, I was completely skin and bones. I had my hair always in a new style from a Teen Magazine too. This year was my acne that killed me and the fact that, while others wore training bra's, I already had a B-cup. That year was the first year I had more then one friend, that actually stuck around. This is where it get's completely cliche.
Instead of random people bothering me, it was the 'populars'. The girls who everyone adored and loved relentlessly. They'd push me around , make bets on who was the ugliest. They'd leave sticky notes on my back, saying not so very nice words. The list goes on. Though two memories always comes to mind during 5th grade year that was considerately the worse.
Like any other girl, I had a crush, the boy I will call him, Royce. He was tall, sweet, handsome. He was my prince charming, my knight in armor, by my side always and without a doubt my best friend. Well there used to be a game the boys played called, Oreo, The purpose was to embarrass each other and ask out either the brattiest or ugliest girl in the school. Well, it was the end of the day and I as walking home , he jogged by me and smiled, sweetly, or at least what I believed to be sweet then. And an Oreo had been pulled on me. Before I could respond to his 'confession' he had burst out laughing apologizing, explaining that it was impossible for a guy like him to take me seriously, a girl like me.
There has been a lot more times then this, but that was an eye opener for I. I had never understood how wrong it was of them to do those things. I literately thought with all my heart what did was normal, then I realized this hadn't happened to everyone.
It never got easier in middle school either, though that's a different story.
Children are quite truthful, though mean. At the time, I just never realized it. Correction, I knew but didn't want to believe it.