The beginning of bullying

I was bullied through school, although I can’t remember exactly when or how it started. Maybe I’ve blocked it out. Maybe it was just so insignificant that I didn’t really make a memory of it.

I know there was a group of friends and I became caught up with them.  I got close to one of the girls.  Maybe the jealousy started it.  I don’t know.

I read that bullies often accuse the bully of being a victim.  This definitely happened. I was dragged into the deputy heads office accused of all sorts of horrible things against 6 other girls.  Me?!  Yes, I’m ranty.  Yes I’m a bitch NOW, but back then?! Well, I had a mean steak. We all did, but I was mostly meek and scared.  I could have said something, although my mind was so frail that I would have been totally incapable of verbally abusing anyone, let alone being a long standing bully to 6 girls who were both considerably bigger and considerably stronger than myself.

I got suspended.

That was the first time.

The second suspension came after I snapped after 3 years of being told I was skanky, smelly, had fleas, hated. I had been scratched and thumped in passing.  I had had my hair pulled, told things I don’t remember (I have blocked out a lot of things from before I was 16.)  I remember being terrified to go to school incase they said something.

Then one day, the ringleader was laid on a table in the form room.  I went in there to speak to someone else.  I was with my friend who happened to have red hair.  Ringleader relished this opportunity and thought she was being clever.  I belted her one.

Not my finest moment.

Still, I don’t remember when I went from being friends with them to being universally hated.  Sometimes I do wonder if it was me putting my foot in my mouth.  Other times I realise that nothing I did or said would have changed what happened back then. 


4 responses to “The beginning of bullying

  1. it’s awful isn’t, we had a group of mean girls at our school too, total bitches

  2. Just saw this on someone’s FB wall: A teacher was telling her class about bullying and gave them the following exercise to perform. She had the children take a piece of paper, told them to crumple it up, stomp on it, crush it but not to rip it. Then she asked them to unfold the paper, smooth it out and to look at how scarred and dirty it was. She then told them to tell it they’re sorry. Even though they said they were sorry and tried to fix the paper, she pointed out all the scars they left behind. And that those scars would never go away no matter how hard they tried to fix it. That is what happens when a child bully’s another child, they may say they’re sorry but the scars are there forever. The looks on the faces of the children in the classroom told her the message hit home.

    • Oh, I like it! Back when I was beung bullied they didn’t really know how to deal with it. I was supersensitive too.
      One teacher did actually tell me I was being sensitive and to get over it. Good old 1994.

  3. I was also bullied at school, in my last year of primary school (we had just moved to a new town) and it meant I had no confidence in secondary school.

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