All through elementary school, I was always known as the “shy bookworm.” The little blonde girl who sat in the corner reading books, forever deciding that her own imagination and little world was more interesting that reality. I did not have too many friends but was always considered kind and respectful by teachers. Truthfully, I did not have much of a problem with my first “stereotype,” I was perfectly content bopping around and enjoying whatever fantasy my mind created.
Until one day, in third grade, I became jealous of one of the popular girls. Given, back then; I had no concept of jealousy or what the word even meant… I just knew that I wanted to be her. I wanted to have friends and have my turn being the leader of the girl group, a reality I was never able to have myself. So, I told her. I told her exactly how lucky she was and how I was envious of her outgoing personality. She felt sympathetic towards me (or, at least as sympatric as a 9-year-old could have been) and told me that I had to be more social and pretty to “fit in”.
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That was it, the key to success! Being more outgoing and beautiful were the ways to making friends. At the time, I thought I really came across a good piece of advice… oh, how was I wrong.
From that point on, around fifth or sixth grade, I became more self-conscious about my appearance. I was a little on the chubbier side (I hit puberty much sooner than my school friends), freakishly tall, and most of all, a total tomboy. People made fun of me for loathing makeup, clothes, and all things frilly…. things that revolved around the worlds of all of the other girls in my grade. To put it simply, I was an outcast in the realm of girls. The boys picked up on my oddities and began to persistently harass me, calling me “emo” and lesbian. (At this age, both I and them, clearly had no knowledge of the true meaning of the word). One boy even dared me to lick the bottom of the bus floor so he could videotape it and show it around to all of his friends and laugh at me. At this point, I attempted to be more outgoing, rather choosing to laugh right alongside my “friends” instead of them laughing at me behind my back.
Elementary school became hell. Having to go day in and day out, just knowing that I was to be the butt of everyone’s cruel jokes, crushed my innocent soul more than anything. I felt like an ugly, friendless freak who couldn’t fit in anywhere.
Then, in seventh grade, I found myself amidst a brand-new school, full of older kids I just prayed wouldn’t hate me as well. (this would be my home from 7th-12th grade). The summer before school started, I stalked some of the girls in which I would be going to school with, admiring how thin and pretty they all were. And, so, I got this crazy notion in my head that in order to leave all the bullying and name calling behind me, I’d have to lose weight and become this beautiful “girly girl” everyone expected of me.
It worked…. too well.
I certainly gained their attention all right, just not in the way in which I intended. In ninth grade, I was the picturesque of girly, long, platinum blonde hair, short skirt, heels, the whole nine yards. For the first time in my entire life, I felt beautiful. People were actually noticing me, paying me the attention I so desperately craved throughout my childhood. Hell, I even did so well that I began to date a junior football player, an accomplishment my younger self would have never dreamed possible. I got my first kiss too, blindly falling in love with the world in which I would soon be whisked out.
That’s when things really took a turn for the worse.
People began to take my confident attitude and “attractive” looks as a sign of arrogance. To put it bluntly, I became the new school slut. Of course, none of the rumors were true, but why would anyone take the side of a “dumb blonde”. The gossip spread like a wildfire, never relenting… never backing down. Even my closest friends were talking about me behind my back, not giving a single care that I knew exactly what they were all saying. If all of this wasn’t bad enough, you know what the worst part was? Having to walk down the hallway every single day, just knowing that people were staring and talking about you. You couldn’t make eye contact, you couldn’t defend yourself. You just had to keep walking and pretend like everything was alright. Just put a smile on your face and pretend that you were happy…. Instead of dying inside.
During this period of time, I was also constantly harassed online. I received dozens of messages on ask.fm, Facebook, etc calling me a slut and whore…. telling me to disappear. One girl even threatened to fight me in school the following day. It was safe to say that I cried myself to sleep that night, dreading the moment I had to walk through those halls. I did, of course. I tried to be as strong as I could and plaster a fake smile across my face, anxiously avoiding my dreaded attacker. Thankfully I was able to avoid her (if you know me, I am one to avoid confrontation at all costs), but that fear still lingered inside my mind for the remainder of the school year.
It was better that summer, the one before sophomore year. I made a video on Facebook documenting my experience with bullying, just hoping that someone would listen to my cry for help. No one did. So, instead, I spent my days outdoors and at the beach. No one from the high school was ever there, so in a way, nature was my sanctuary and safe haven from the hell I experienced at school. (maybe that’s why I love nature so much now).
Regardless, once sophomore year began, the bullying picked up right where it left off. However, I had a new attacker; a girl, and former “friend,” within my grade. Looking back on it, I think it was her sole purpose in life to make my life utter and complete hell. I also received a new nickname; “whale.” She drew whales all over chalkboards in the school and made whale sounds whenever she was near me, just making sure that I “accidently” overheard. I was already self-conscious about my weight and appearance, so this was the icing on the cake.
I experienced a horrible low and thought of many things that I was not proud of.
But, I somehow recovered, all by myself. The incessant bullying did not stop there, of course, but I learned how to cope with it the best I could. Junior year, I completely cut off all the people who were causing me distress, my supposed “friends” who just wanted to see me fall. In a way, I transformed into the shell of my former “shy bookworm,” ignoring the outside world and solely focusing on myself. I knew that I had to be strong because I was the only one that I could rely on. I had to be strong, because, if I wasn’t, I might very well not be here today. And that’s the truth.
I am still harassed and mocked to this day. It’s unfortunate to know that our society will never change, even if we have all “grown up” and matured. Cruel people still exist… and always will.
I suppose my primary purpose for writing this extremely long article is to make people aware. They see a pretty, smiling face and just assume that individual has everything going for him or her….that they are happy. I’m here to tell you that appearances are not everything and that everyone on this Earth right now is fighting their own battle…even if you cannot see it. Mental health issues are on the rise and nobody knows why. Hell, just look at society and how fucking cruel it can be, then maybe you will understand. Maybe someone will finally understand.
I will end my story here. But, first, I want everyone who is silently fighting a battle right now to know that they are not alone. You are loved deeply and widely, even if you feel like you have no one to turn to. Inner strength and courage will get you through even the worst of hells. Sometimes all you need is a little hope.
Lots of love
XOXO.
