Dear Bullied Teen,
I just found out it's Bullying Prevention Awareness Month. And because I want you to know you aren't alone, I'm going to tell my story for the first time:
I was a victim of bullying. Though it's been twenty years since I left high school, I remember.
I remember...
...when guys in my class laughed and pointed because I tripped over a mat and fell on the cement with my skirt flipped up over my back.
...when the popular girls passed me in the halls, whispering to each other while they looked at me, laughing and calling names over their shoulders.
...the guy who would mutter "I
hate you," every time he saw me. Every. Time.
...the friends who'd sink into the crowd when I got cornered in the hallway by a group of girls determined to make me understand how ugly, useless and stupid I was.
...the two guys in woodshop pulling me aside and asking me what color my pubic hair was. Then, when I wouldn't answer, they laughed and ran around the class telling everyone a lie.
...a girl leaning out the window of a classroom as I passed, reciting the contents of a note she'd found when searching my school bag. (She'd photocopied my "love letter" and distributed it among the freshmen and sophomore classes).
...the more popular girls in my class wishing me a happy 15th birthday. When I smiled, they cracked an egg in my hair.
...the friend who denied being my friend when our classmates taunted her about knowing me.
...the teacher who affirmed my classmates taunting, just to get a laugh.
...the time I returned from PE to find my clothes soaking wet.
...the guy who liked me, but told me he couldn't date me because others would make fun of him.
...the guy who asked me to dance, then when I said yes, laughed in my face and called a bunch of his friends over to tell them he'd asked me and I'd said yes. "Like I'd ever want to touch
her..."
...being backed up against the wall of the woodshop classroom, completely surrounded by a dozen male classmates, all of them hurling words like "slut" and "virgin" (in the same sentence, mind), "ugly", "fat", and accusing me of having sex with my father. Among other things.
...the girl who followed me home from school, hurling insults and threats, and eventually (because I completely ignored her) hit me over the head with an umbrella. Hard.
...hearing words like "ugly", "slut", "hate you", "go home", "fat", "dog", and more and more and more, every single day.
And more. And more. And more...
My heart rate still goes up, every time I talk about this stuff because of all the things I experienced, the memory of
fear is the most acute. When I cast my mind back to those days, my body returns to the state I lived in back then.
It's a battlefield.
I remember dragging my clothes on for the day ahead, walking reluctantly onto campus, head down, pulse raised, body sweating, wary of what might be coming from behind, braced for impact from what I could see ahead.
At fifteen, walking down a school hallway felt akin to approaching a firing squad.
No one should have to live that way. No one. Including you.
I want you to know that it can change. It doesn't always have to be this way. But it won't be easy. Through no fault of your own, you've been handed a mountain to climb. And I know how hard and painful that trek is.
I want you to know it's worth it.
In the years since I found emotional freedom from my past I've come across a lot of bullies. Ironically,
they're scared of
me now. Because they don't sense weakness in me anymore. Now they sense strength. I've had friends, colleagues, acquaintances take shelter behind my metaphorical bulk, because they can sense it too:
I'm not scared anymore.
Can you imagine how wonderful that feels? Probably not. I ache knowing you're still experiencing that pain and fear every day.
If I could tattoo anything on your heart it would be: "You have value. You are loveable. They are
wrong." I would follow you around repeating those words and more - how important you are, how critical you are, how necessary. That the world would be less if you weren't here. But as a former victim myself, I know those words, while they hold hope, are hard to believe when you're in the bunkers, rallying strength for the next altercation.
So, I wrote a book. Among other things, it's about a girl who's bullied relentlessly at school - and those around her don't quite realize how bad it is. It's called
Breakable because you and I both know that people aren't impenetrable. There are weights that are too heavy. There are blows that are too hard. We are fragile.
We can break.
I didn't write Stacy's character to retell my story. She has a story of her own. And I didn't write her to tie up a bullying story in a nice little ribbon - because you've probably already figured out, our stories don't end that way.
I wrote her story so that you know that I remember how it feels. And I know that it's wrong. I wrote it because I want you to see that even though I don't know you, I love you. I feel for you. I hurt with you.
No matter what anyone else tells you, the truth is: Those bullies in your life are wrong.
The day will come that you'll be strong. You won't feel isolated or afraid. You'll know with certainty that they are wrong. Then they'll lose their power, and you'll lose your fear.
But until then, know that
I haven't forgotten, and I know how hard it is. And I'm not the only adult you'll meet who understands. You aren't alone. It won't always feel this way.
I
was a victim of bullying, but not anymore. I'm strong now. I can sit in the bunker with you until you're ready. Then I'll remind you: I'm walking proof: You can find your way out of that hellhole. So don't give up. Please, don't give up.
They're wrong.
If you or someone you know is being bullied you can get help. Start with a school counselor, or a parent or family friend who had similar experiences. If they don't get it, keep looking: Sports coaches, teachers, aunts and uncles, older kids whose lives have already changed... just keep looking. You need help. You deserve
help.
You can also get in touch with others who've been in your shoes, and the adults who can help on sites like www.pacerteensagainstbullying.org, and http://www.uft.org/our-rights/brave (check out the BRAVE line contact details on the right).
Don't stop looking for help. Don't give up!