4 comments | December 16th, 2011

(story submitted by RES, an 18 yo Chestist)

Bullying, digital, physical, emotional….is out of control.  Has it gotten worse, or are we getting more intolerant of its intolerance?  Here's one reader's story:

I've always been teased or bullied, and sometimes I don't feel like I love or respect myself enough (or I'm not strong enough to stand up for myself) and so I let people take advantage of me.

It takes a lot to wear my tolerance/patience down, and it's become a problem. Even after my family and true friends tell me how proud they are of me and how much they love me, I have yet to love myself as much. I don't know what's taking so long for me. {end story}

Have you – or someone you loved – been bullied?  Why; for what?  Maybe back in the day you were a bully?  What happened?  How's it affect you now?  What advice do you have for RES and anyone else going through this?  Why do you think it's so much "easier" to feel the wrath of the bully than the love of your friends?

And for any of our younger readers who may be dealing with this now, please check out WeStopHate.org and you'll find the comfort, solace and stories of 000s of kids just like you.  Founded by our friend Emily-Anne Rigal, someone who was bullied herself, we think it'll help.  Maybe even a lot. 


  • M.K.

    Posted on December 16, 2011

    I wasn’t exactly bullied, but this is a story about the school bully and me. I was 7 or 8. There was this one boy who terrorized the schoolyard and everyone in it. Looking back, I can’t figure out if maybe there was something wrong with him or if he was just a bullying ass.

    Before school would start, everyone would be out in the yard. This particular day, we were playing kickball (I was very good). Well, when I kicked the ball, I kicked it into his face (he wasn’t playing, just running around). He went down like a ton of bricks. Everyone told me I should run. People told me I should go home and never come back. There was no doubt that I was in a lot of trouble.

    I thought about running. I wanted to run. But somehow in my 7 or 8 year-old mind I realized I couldn’t run forever. With nowhere else to go, I ran over to him and said I was sorry and asked if he was alright. We were like prize-fighters in the ring, everyone watching us and giving enough room to what they were sure was about to happen next.

    I was pretty sure I was about to get hit or something. He got up, rubbed his face, looked at me and said “ok, but it better not happen again” (I swear, all these years later, those were exactly his words). He walked away and I lived to play kick-ball another day.

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  • Been There

    Posted on December 17, 2011

    I know. Sometimes minutes can seem like hours and days like years. I can almost promise you that what feels like it is taking too long now will feel like it happened just in time later. I know this too – that is no real comfort but please know that like you, I and so many others have been through it and we came out the other side. Stick with it and stick with yourself. no one can take from you what you feel inside and know to be the truth.

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  • A.K.M.

    Posted on December 17, 2011

    Do you know anyone who loves themselves as much as their friends and family love them?

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  • leah

    Posted on December 21, 2011

    The memories are too hazy to tell if there was a pattern of bullying, but that’s what I assume happened. That’s what my Mom says happened. There was always this one girl with whom I had some conflict from the very first days of elementary school. I remember sitting with two girls reading a book on the school bus. The one who owned the book pushed my five-year old face into a window and told me I wasn’t allowed to read with them. Why? Who knows? Maybe I did something. Maybe I was the bully (probably not). I became a silent, insecure child who had a anxious Hell of a time trying to socialize. I was a loose cannon, ready to lash out at the slightest perceived insult, and overly-concerned with what people were surely thinking of me. I assumed they must be internally watching and judging my every move, and that at any moment I may be excluded. I was perpetually ashamed of my every move. Surely something must’ve made me that way? It didn’t go away. I am still isolated, silent in large groups, and distrustful of others. I still feel often unintentionally excluded when I can’t seem to find anything to say in big groups. I am 22 and I still live with an unshakeable shame, and a great deal of it probably has to do with being bullied from a very early age.

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