Firstly, I have to apologise for the small break from writing on here. Blame A Levels (I now realise that the ‘A’ stands for ‘atrocious’).
Anyway, I’ve been thinking during these few months about what to write about. Rihanna has a new album for example. I was having a browse on the internet a few weeks ago, when I found out that’s BeatBulling Week next week, and they suggest that people write blog posts about bulling and why it’s unacceptable. I’m not very good at convincing people not to do things, so I thought I’d simply tell you my experiences with bullying. Also, about six months ago, I wrote a speech similar to this for my English coursework, and my teacher said she was ‘moved’ by it (ie so bored she moved to the kettle), so I thought I may as well share it.
I was bullied pretty much non-stop for six years. When people ask me now what I was bullied about, I literally can’t remember anything that I haven’t been bullied about. My height (back in Year 7 anyway), my attitude to school, my skin, my appearance, my personality and my sexuality were all parts of myself that I’ve been bullied about. In other words, I was bullied about absolutely everything. The problem was that these are things that I was and still am insecure about. All the negative thoughts and opinions had I had about myself were legitimated by bullying. As people told me that my skin is too spotty, or that I’m not good enough at sport, or that I’m too shy, it only validated the exact same thoughts I was having in my head.
My experience with bullying peaked in Year 10/11, in which the bullying became physical. I can remember vividly a day in which a group of younger boys threw water and rocks at me. Another day, the same group of boys were calling me homophobic names to the point at which I cried. To make things worse, a member of staff at school walked straight through that abuse and didn’t stop. That was probably was the worst day of my life, because every thought that I had was confirmed not only by the boys, but also by one of my own teachers.
Since moving on into the Sixth Form, I’m no longer bullied by other people, but I bully myself. Everything that I was bullied about, I still hate about myself. I hate people seeing me with bad hair. I hate them seeing me looking tired. These things probably sound petty to most people, but I struggle daily with myself. It even took me nearly a year to put a picture of myself up on Twitter because of how insecure I was and still am.
The main problem I have now is trying to realise that people actually like me. If someone is nice to me, I automatically think they’re only acting that way out of pity. This does make it difficult for me to have a relationship with someone because I feel like ugly and not worthy all of the time. This low self-esteem makes it difficult for me to talk to new people too, because I worry that they would never like me or fancy me, so to me it’s a pointless exercise. That probably sounds ridiculous, but it’s the only thing I’ve ever known.
Thankfully, all the negativity is over in this article. Since my eighteenth birthday a month ago, I’ve started to move on from these insecurities. I’m doing everything in my power to get over all these insecurities and the ruins of the bullying. I recently opened my year book from Year 11, and I realised how different I am now. Not just my appearance (oh hai quiff), but I’ve grown up a lot. The main thing that I wanted to write in this article is that bullying is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. My life was a living hell. But I’m still here.
If you’re reading this now and are being bullied, you really should tell someone. I try to live with no regrets, but I can’t put into words how much I regret not saying anything. I regret letting them get the better of me too, and I have daily reminders of what I experienced. But, in the words of Kelly Clarkson, what doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.