I’m not sure why I became a target of bullying. It didn’t start until junior high for me, but that didn’t make it any less painful. I was always the girl who was really good at having fun. I didn’t care about what people thought about me, until they made their thoughts extremely public.
Often other girls would write hurtful things about me on the desks in the classroom or scrawled across the walls. On more than one occasion I went to school early just to wash the hurtful things off the walls. I lived in a very small town and if I took my dog out for a walk, I could count on the same girls to yell at me from the windows, calling me horrible names I never deserved. I was close with my few girlfriends and this prompted my haters to call me a lesbian slut — often calling me to taunt me over the phone, calling collect, sending me emails… egging my house or damaging my things.
I used to write a lot of poetry and one time I accidentally left my binder in the classroom. When I found it, the bullies had written “lesbian” “slut” “fatty” “gross” on every single page, with notes in the margins making fun of my work.
I was called fat so much, but looking back I see now that I was an extremely healthy weight — thin even! I still don’t understand why they called me fat so much. The boys called me “bacon” or “chocolate milk” and made up rumours about me I’m too ashamed to repeat.
I suffered from severe depression then, even though I didn’t know what it was yet. Today, 10 years later, I’m in therapy for depression and social anxiety, and I can’t help but think one of the main reasons is this bullying I endured. I wanted to die so much back then, I don’t know how I made it. I don’t know why they chose me.