I stood on the edge of a vast cornfield, feeling the rough hands of my tormentors lift me and throw me into the muddy ground. I landed face-first in the Pennsylvania soil, spitting out dirt as I struggled to get up. They had also tossed aside my hat, mittens, and coat. Later, I felt so filthy that the school nurse insisted I change into a pair of issued pants. Bullying creates an atmosphere of unpredictability that you can never escape.
As I made my way to the coat closet in the classroom, I remembered the special red coat my sister had lent me, the one with soft fur lining. I’d promised to take care of it. But a few desks away, I saw a girl named Lily snatch it off the hanger. She let it fall to the floor, then stomped on it, leaving dusty prints all over the vibrant fabric. I told the teacher, but her indifference only made me cry as I scrubbed the coat to remove the marks. My sister would be furious; I had talked so much about how precious it was, and now the bullies had ruined it. Bullying means you can’t enjoy your belongings.
Friendless, I had no one to confide in or sit with at lunch. The absence of companionship meant I lacked someone to guide me on things like shaving my legs. When we all wore skirts, I became the target of ridicule from Sarah and some boys, who said I looked like a gorilla. I ended up shaving that night, but my efforts resulted in a gash down my shin, inviting even more laughter the next day. Bullying means you can’t escape the cycle of embarrassment.
One summer, I owned a gray shirt adorned with an English Setter, a breed I adored. But I refrained from wearing it, knowing someone would mock me as a dog-lover. Bullying means you start to censor yourself out of fear.
That same summer, I would visit a friend’s house, only to be tormented by her brother. One day, he struck me between the legs with a stick, leading me to shield myself. “Why are you touching yourself?” he jeered. Bullying means that even in self-defense, you become the punchline.
High school was filled with similar experiences. A group of girls concocted a story that I was dating the boy of my dreams. For a brief moment, I thought I had a boyfriend, but he didn’t acknowledge me. The girls feigned concern and sent one of his friends to deliver the news: “Ryan isn’t dating you, Emily. He never was.” Their laughter echoed as they set me up with one of the least popular boys in class, compelling me to kiss him even though I didn’t want to. They laughed heartily at my discomfort, forcing me to change tables. Bullying means trust is a luxury you can’t afford.
One morning, while chatting with a friend in class, a boy named Jake suddenly shouted, “Shut up, Emily, you’re ugly!” Nothing is more devastating for a 14-year-old girl than being called ugly. Bullying means you are haunted by self-doubt.
During preparation for a Latin test, a boy named Mark turned around and scribbled “LEZZIE” on my paper. In a moment of anger, I slapped him, and we both ended up in the principal’s office. Bullying means that you can’t defend yourself without facing consequences.
This was all part of a calculated campaign against me. Spitballs flew across the room; I was constantly labeled as ugly. One boy and his friends made me their target. Bullying means you face a collective onslaught.
When a friend told me that another was upset with me, I spent days worrying that I’d lost a close companion. I would have done anything to mend that rift, which was resolved with a letter written in the typical, messy handwriting of high school. It failed to acknowledge the previous days’ tensions. Bullying means you can never be sure when friendships will falter.
From age 7 through high school, I was a regular target. The only person who defended me was a brave girl named Mia, who risked her own standing to stand up for me. I’ve always admired her courage, especially against the indifference of others and the teachers who told me to stop complaining. Mia showed me that bullying means you don’t have to remain silent.
The world needs more people like her—those willing to speak out against injustice and say, “That’s not right, this is unfair, that’s harming someone; stop it now.” We can be agents of change. More than anything, bullying teaches us that silence is not the answer.
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In summary, bullying is a pervasive issue that can leave lasting scars. It teaches us about fear, self-doubt, and the importance of standing up for ourselves and others. We must strive to foster an environment where everyone feels safe and valued.