To the girl I used to be.

To the girl I used to be:

Every day I wake up, and look in the mirror. I look in the mirror, and don't even recognize myself. I do my normal morning routine, and drive to a familiar university I call my college. It doesn't look like the college as a little girl, I would imagine going to. I walk to my class, occasionally smiling and waving to familiar faces. I sit in my class, and try to pay attention. But sometimes, sometimes I get distracted. It's like the past haunts me. Everything has been going rather smooth in my own personal life. I have family, I know their there for me. I have friends, that I could call and talk too, and I have God I know I can always talk to. The thing is, talking is hard for me. talking about important things are harder. Talking about how I feel is a new subject, I am slowly learning.

In was the start of 6th grade, an overweight girl with no confidence entered the lunch room. She looked for her friends, but knew deep down she had none. She walked over to the farthest table and sat down. She wanted to be invisible. She wanted to be left alone. Sadly, the other children knew she wanted to be left alone, so what would they do? Torture her. They would through food in her hair. They would make fun of her. They would call her names and laugh at her. This little girl was me.

A couple months ago in my English class, I was given a topic. I was given the topic "Bullying". I didn't think much about this topic. Nothing much at all. I would read a couple magazines, checkout some books, and shoot google the topic as well. As I got to the part where I was supposed to share some personal experiences, I just couldn't. I spent almost a month contemplating what to do. I didn't want people to know my story. I didn't want people to feel sorry for me. I didn't want to be looked down upon.

I have always learned you have to accept the truth in order to embrace it. The truth is, I used to get bullied. Not like the typical once a month, laugh at and point bullying.  But the type of bullying, where you get bullied your whole life. I remember it was even in Kindergarden I was bullied for playing basketball. Something so small, as a couple girls laughing at me for playing a "boys sport" haunted me to the point of quit following my dreams and playing the sport I enjoyed. 3rd grade was bad. I remember that is when the cliques were formed. I remember the start of my middle school years were the worst.  I hated going to school. I had no friends to sit by at lunch. These years, continued to get worse. In was 10th grade year, when the school found out I was LDS. That gave all my bullies something else to pick on me for...I remember coming to my moms car (Since I was not yet 16) and having to make up an excuse to sit in the back, so my mom wouldn't see me crying. I felt alone. I felt down right awful. I truly believe that the worst thing a person can do to you is humiliate you infront of others. I was humiliated day after day by tons of bullies.

I don't think a victim like me or anyone else, who have been bullied can fully 100% overcome the pain that was caused. Years later, as I am feeling great about my looks, my grades, and my social life. I occasionally get the same feeling I felt years ago. When I walk down hallways, and everyone just stairs, I have that punch in my stomach pain, wondering what they are saying. When I run into class late, and the whole class stairs, it reminds me of years ago. The rude comments, the dirty glares, those have burned so deep into my brain that there is no forgetting. I hate watching people bully others. Even if they are the "nerd" in their class. Even if a boy is "gay" and doesn't play football like the other guys do. Even if a Jewish girl doesn't want to say the pledge, or a bigger girl is bigger then all the guys. Does that make it anyone's right to pick on and harass the individual? NO. Not at all. Somedays I wonder, if all those cruel boys and girls who called me all the names under the sun, who made me cry every day,who would trip me so I could fall, realizes the harm they caused on me. I wonder if they even would care.

I wish I could help others. I wish I could at least help a victim. I know how it feels. I know how hard it is. I wish I could tell them not to let those cruel words and harsh circumstances just not get to them.  I wish I had someone when I was getting bullied. I wish I had one friend that would stick up for me back then.
Facing the facts and realizing the pain are the hardest for me.