My freshman year I was bullied. I thought bullying was something I’d never experience, just some kind of drama you only saw in shows and movies. You see, my middle school was a tight knit community of scholars. We were too consumed with our studies to be worried about other people’s affairs. Or in other people in general. I never witnessed kids fight or insult each other. Everyone was pretty mature and reasonable. So it was when I joined a ‘normal’ highschool, things changed. 

I was minding my own business at lunch when a group of guys came up to me. One was very timid, and everyone gossipped that he had a crush on me. The others were much taller, almost frightening in comparison to my small size. I usually ate lunch with seniors; I never quite liked my freshmen class. Of course, it had to be the day I was sitting alone — to take a break from everything— the most despicable boys in my class approached me. One propped himself onto the table in front of me, spreading his legs so I was in between them. 

He asked me why I wore skirts often. It was revolting. 

“I bet you wear those skirts so someone can just lift them up and f*ck you.” He laughs. “I bet you’d like that too.” His friends all laugh too, as if they were simply just teasing me. I follow along and laugh nervously too. I was too frightened to speak up. To defend myself and cause conflict between us. I wanted so badly to tell him to get away from me; how disgusting he and his friends were, but I just couldn’t. The fear and disgust from what he said paralyzed me. I seemed to choke up hearing his words. I couldn’t talk.

My time at my old high school felt like hell. I would often encounter situations like this, and I didn’t understand what was causing it. I was more advanced than all the freshmen in my grade, leading to people disliking me. To them, I was just a teacher's pet. Some became my friends though only later did it become obvious they were just using me so I could give them answers to the classwork and homework we had. A group of boys always picked on me because of my small size… and probably because one of their friends liked me too. Many awful comments were spread about me, how I dressed, how I was just pretending to be smart. A handful of times the same boys would try to choke me, pin me to a wall, anything just to entertain themselves. I was already going through tough times at home, and this only added to my stress. I couldn’t voice my problems to my family in fear of more problems arising. I didn’t like talking to adults about topics like these. I never wanted to open up to anyone but close friends about my mental health or emotional wellbeing.  I didn’t want to have people worry over me or hear their pity. So I just stayed quiet about everything, silently absorbing it. 

When I finally found comfort with some of my classmates, problems sprung up. I had two classes with seniors, befriending some of them. When I was seen walking around with one of them, I was called a sl*t. Why would a small freshmen girl walk around with a tall senior guy if it were for anything but sexual interest? People seemed to be incapable of understanding that a relationship between a guy and girl can be purely platonic. It made me even more miserable. That friend of mine, Brian, has been one of the most supportive people I’ve ever met. He has helped me through a lot, seen me suffer and struggle, and always stayed to support me. I didn’t want his reputation to be dragged down just because he was around a freshman girl. Sure, there were people who understood the misunderstandings and decided to just talk to me normally. Though it wasn’t many. 

I still never told anyone about what was happening to me, passing time mindlessly at this high school. The only thing I did complain to my parents about how easy the courses were. I asked if I could be transferred to a different high school, one made for students like me, who have higher academic potential. I started asking this when I was only 2 months into the school year, which confused my parents. The school year barely started, why would I want to transfer already? They wanted me at this high school because my brother was here and it’d be easier for my mom to drive us.  However, she didn’t drive us anymore and so we both took the bus. Due to this change, I saw an opportunity to ask to change high schools. My mom and dad didn’t want to at first, and decided I’d switch next semester. I had 2 months left.

Choosing to ignore everyone who was awful to me at this school, I joined the Cheer team in my free time. I’ll always be grateful to the team for taking me in. We had a strict coach, she allowed no bullying or harassment within the team. This created a welcome and warm environment, all the girls were so close. We felt  like sisters. I learned how to do a variety of stunts quickly, becoming one of the best flyers on the prep team. Everyone was happy with my accomplishments, and their own. I felt at ease when I had practice. I didn’t worry about anything; my mind only thought about if I could hit the stunt, how I could perform better, and what I could do to help win our competition. Slowly I became a stronger person.

I slowly learned to ignore the guys who’d harass me. I wouldn’t talk to them unless I had to, I returned their disgusting comments with hateful glares and carefully picked responses. If the group of freshmen boys came up to me, I stood my ground. Sooner or later they stopped approaching me or bothering me, going on to the next girl to pick on. It raised the weight off my back and made it easier to sleep at night. Although I had many other struggles occuring, I learned to tackle one of them. I learned to be able to ignore people and their hateful comments; they’re probably only jealous of you and your own success. Although I still find it difficult to talk about certain subjects and voice my complaints, I’m finding ways to improve myself. 

I used to be ashamed of the things that happened to me. That these events were inevitably my fault because I did something wrong. I questioned and doubted my worth, often. Now I stand tall. I know how much I’m worth, and although I may doubt myself sometimes, I know that I am important. I shouldn’t be treated any differently than anyone else and I should stand my ground. I will use my voice and talk and not let things hurt me again. I’ve grown as a person from these hurtful events, and I am content with the better person that I’m becoming.