Real Teens Speak Out

Stronger

every day’s the same
she fought to find her way
I am not the same, she says.
Why do I not know
the same information as the public schooled kids?
how can they use it against me?
I am not lesbian
I am not stupid
I am not a coward
I am not an idiot
Please don’t punish me
Please don’t hit me
I can’t help that I annoyed you.
I can’t help that my mom found out
what you did to me.
I didn’t tell, I swear.
She didn’t even notice the small scabs you left behind.
It wasn’t my idea to tell YOUR mom.
It wasn’t my idea for your mom to ground you.
You tried to be nice, for three days.
I’m sorry that you feel I am so inferior that you could
tell them about the time I cried.
I am inferior.
I am disloyal.
I left you behind.
I hope you feel better about yourself than you made me feel about myself.
I would never kill you. no matter how much I said I wanted to.
bye
-Sincerly,
J (girl)

Private School Bullying

Hello, I’m a 16 year old who went to a catholic private school. I went there, for 9th and 10th grade. I had the worst problem, I was bullied, called a coward by the Principal. He was the reason why I was found to have anxiety, he would tell the students that I was the worst person alive. He even told me that I should be in a mental hospital because we didn’t know what I had, because I started shaking, crying, breathing fast, and stressed. I sat down in lunch by myself, no one will talk to me. I would cry my eyes out. I try to ask for help but, no one helped me. He kicked me out because during 10th grade, a student decided to make a fake Instagram account to make fun of people. I told the principal and showed him my phone that, I don’t have data I only use the internet in the school. The school had a privacy deal, so Instagram and snapchat wouldn’t work. I told him that, but he later on in the week falsely accused me. My mother tried to talked to him about this problem, but he was rude. He even said he didn’t need proof, he knew it was me. He later on took me out of the school. We went to the diocese. The director of education blamed me and said it was all my fault. During that time, I lost my faith, but now I’ve regained it. Where I live has a church but the father stop speaking to me. So I left that church, to another catholic church 15 minutes away. The principal was the person who mentally abused me. Nobody did anything to help me. I wish I could forget this problem, but never I can. I wish, I can connect with someone… Or some hear my story.. The worst, thing is I’m a disabled girl. Yet, nobody tried helping me and caring about my situation.

my bulling story

hi my name is Ashley lee pickford im 15 years old so it all started when i was really young people a lot older than me would come and scare me all the time with masks and i didn’t like it they would call me names now that im 15 nothing have changed I’ve started to get bullied online a lot and I’ve got told to go die and self harm and I’ve been bullied in school and people call me a ginger freak and a cockeyed freak and they call me an anorexic and they call me fat i see my sisters and they dont get bullied as much as i do but im there for them when they get bullied i protect them because i dont want them going through what i went through and i really want cyber bulling to stop because its not right

Me on my first day of school

I was in school on my first day of with grade and this girl came up to me and said hi and she said she was my friend then a couple weeks later i found out she was talking smack about me and I stood up to her but then she started saying stuff to my face which made me mad I tried to stand up to her again but she had about five more real friends of her own with her and they were going to jump me but the teacher came and they got caught and got a warning from the principal. Then the next day it had been four weeks I was tired of sitting alone tried to talk to someone and made a real friend then we became bff’s and then they started to bully her and and I stood up to her cause my friend helped me but then she threatened me with a pair of scissors and said if I ever did that again she would kill me so I didn’t but then she threatened my friend all cause we were laughing and being too loud on the bus so I told her to leave us alone and she said no I asked why she started to bully me in the first place she said “because your different stupid and you act crazy” and because someone as joyful as me exists. Can you believe that she said it’s mostly cause someone so joyful like me exsists. I was hurt and she called me horrible names.

Victim of bullying

Middle school was a traumatic time in my life. I had no self esteem at all. I thought I was the most unattractive girl in the whole school. I started getting made fun of alot by girls and guys. I would be called ugly all the time. I got physically abused by a guy once on a bus ride to school one morning. The girls never hit me, but they would say hurtful things. My family and I tried to get the Principal to do something about the bullying. They always made it seem to always be my fault. The main bully, whose name I won’t mention, her aunt worked in the school office, so no one would stand up for me. They hated me at that school. The students and even the teachers. My grades suffered as much as my self esteem. I was the type of person that never bothered anyone, but they still taunted me. The mean things they said still haunt me. Bullying is very hurtful.

LIFE

Stop with the bullying!

i tought we where friends

this past couple of weeks i have been called ugly,fat,stupid,and alot worse and i was told by my best friend that she was doing the same thing to her so . so next time it happens i’m going to my APs office and telling him about the problem and hopefully it will stop

Here’s my sad little story

Picture this: Me, a smart, whippet-thin second grader with confidence issues. My bully, a short, greasy-haired girl with weak morals. Our teacher paired us together for math class, where we would rotate to different stations to do different math related activities. At first, she was nice to me, but I noticed something. She would take all the materials, and not give any to me. She would also say really hurtful things, about how I didn’t deserve anything, or I wasn’t good enough. Everyday she would put me down like that, and I would sit there and take it because I didn’t have the courage to stop her. It made my stomach twist and ache. I didn’t want to tell my teacher because I kept thinking to myself that it wasn’t that bad, and that I shouldn’t bother her. But, one day, the bully casually remarked to me she had a knife stowed in her backpack, which of course probably wasn’t true, but that was the tipping point. I told my teacher, who told the principal, and after that I wasn’t picked on (at least by that girl) ever again.

this is my sisters story

she was in 7th grade, it was new year new class and new kids.. at first she was really quiet but then she saw a girl who was in the same class as her in 2nd and 3rd grade. so she talked to them. in her school the teachers decide where the students sit she was supposed to sit in the middle of a girl and a guys she said. and there was two more in the row in front of her. lets call the one sitting on her right sam and the two in the front dwayne and john.so dwayne and sam was bullying john because john broke their fidgets spinner. my sister couldn’t stand them bullying him over something so stupid. so she stepped up but she got bullied in return. my sister had a hard time at home too so she was already in depression. but he was not so nice he made fun of her. she even cried in school because of this and he saw her bcx he was sitting next to her and he said sorry he always says sorry but never means it my sister asked him if they’re was anything wrong with crying and stuff and my sister would get chest pains and breathing problems if someone uses scissors to scratch a table and he found that out so he did that several times and my sister cried several times too. they would say that she was faking it or pretending. he would say ill cut you or kill you or ill rip your skin off but he never means it they than later became friends and they were pretty close ik its no a big big story but whatever and i think my sister kinda liked him idk about now though.

The Started as a Story About Getting Pasta Sauce

I used to blame it on bullying. Around that golden age of 10 I began to experience it. A later teacher termed it a “losing a childhood spark”–when you begin to realize that things won’t always be “okay”. Being an Asian male with a high squeaky voice in a largely rural student body was an experience to say the least. Slurs became a regular substitute for my name. But at that young age, I had a very hard time letting it roll off my shoulders after the first few months. There were a few times where the hate became physical with one particular time being when someone rammed me into the ground. I got up and walked away so that no one would see me cry. I began to hate school, think there was something wrong with me, that I wasn’t good enough.

Even when the bullying stopped, the fear of it continued. There would be days in my freshman year of high school that I would not say a single word. If I was silent, no one would notice me. I even overheard a couple of students behind me in one class wondering if I was mute. It was my protection, as if I had carved myself a little safe space where it wouldn’t hurt so badly. But then something happened. In my junior year I mustered up courage and joined the Quiz Bowl team. I was captain the next year. I had made friends, and, although I wasn’t going out very often, catching a chocolate shake at McDonald’s with someone every month or so was an improvement. I had teachers that I felt comfortable with, and while I wouldn’t have considered myself popular by any means, I was on an acquaintance-basis with almost everyone. And just when things were finally looking up, I fell back into my safe space.

It was the most trivial thing. An argument between my best friend led to me cutting all contact. We stopped talking–or rather I did. They reached out a few times after that argument. I never took the time. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t let myself get hurt again. That was how I justified it. That is how I still justify it now like some stubborn child. It began to expand to more people. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily?) this was near high school graduation. And so, two years ago, I graduated. My mom wanted to take pictures with me and all of my friends. I ushered her back towards the car.

I used to pride myself on being able to bottle my emotions, slipping that in during interviews and such. I could show a straight, stoic face and never get angry, even if a customer was screaming at me. At my former job, my manger even complimented me for having a cool-head. I probably wouldn’t even be writing this if that had continued.

Recently I’ve been noticing a change. I’ve been feeling that it is getting ever-so-slightly harder to push down my emotions. I get teary-eyed over the pictures of some stranger’s dead dog. I’ve been getting angry and throwing fits over the smallest things such as losing the rubber parts of my earbuds. These are two emotions that I thought I could control–that I was better than them.

I used to tell myself that I was happy this way. I was happy when I was secluded and alone, playing video games by myself every night and just putting my head down during classes as long as I got the A. I don’t want to keep doing this anymore, I don’t want to keep playing pretend. When I think about all of the time that I have wasted drowning in my misery I feel sick to my stomach. I’m fed up, disgusted with how I let other people turn me to this without fighting back. How did I let myself get to this place?