I was bullied throughout most of my childhood. From the time I started first grade, until even a bit during my college years. Even after all of these years I wonder why. It doesn't really matter to me anymore, but it's just always something I had wondered.
I basically grew up in Suburbia. Pre-dominantly Catholic, pre-dominantly white, and pre-dominantly wealthy. I remember one of the first trips my dad made to the high school. I forgot why, but it was shortly after we moved from another suburb in Cleveland. My dad got home and one of the first things he said to my mom were, "They're all Stepford wives!"
I was nervous starting first grade. I was the New Kid and I wasn't sure how I was going to be received. All of my fears basically came true. For the next 12 years I'd be the one to get picked on.
I don't know if it was because of my face. I was born with a hemangioma; a benign tumor that took up a good chunk of my face. By the time I was in first grade, I had had my surgery. The doctors didn't remove all of it, though. They removed the growth tissue and explained to my parents that it would be best to wait until I was older, to wait until my tissue had matured before removing the rest of it. So while my tumor wouldn't grow back, there was still a scar that occupied my face. That scar would be the bane of my existence for most of my years. Oh, who am I kidding, it still kind of is, but I choose not to let it get to me anymore.
Anyway, so here's this new kid that comes in with an oddly deformed face. (Okay, NOW I'm being melodramatic.) I think that was the first thing these
But soon they found other things to tease me about. Don't get me wrong, I've always been grateful that I grew up in a very safe town. It's the kind of town that you can go walking around at midnight and not feel unsafe. However, if you didn't have a house by the lake, if your parents weren't doctors, lawyers, or working a high-end job of a bank, you were nothing. I didn't live in a house by the lake. My parents don't have any of those professions. Because I was not wealthy by any means, I got teased for that.
Eventually things just accumulated. Toss in the fact that I was supersensitive, that would REALLY get them going. I would try to get a tougher skin but it was easier said than done. I showed vulnerability really quick. I thought maybe if I cried, maybe if I pleaded, the kids would take pity on me and they would stop. Oh, naivete. How I don't miss you.
I never really had any friends until high school. I was established as not just unpopular, but repulsive. If I had a crush on ANY guy at school, word would spread quick. Their reactions would vary between a disgusted laugh to even bursting into tears.
If you cared a lot about your reputation (which was a huge issue where I live), you were not friends with me. It would be considered social suicide.
Middle school was the worst. The absolute worst. By the time I hit seventh grade, kids were in rare form. I would go to Friday Night Skate, and people would be bribed to couple skate with me. Same thing with dances. I'd come home from school quite often in tears. It broke my parents' heart. They would talk to the guidance counselors. The guidance counselors did nothing, in fear that they would get in trouble with the powerful parents with money. My guidance counselor for 7th grade, Mrs. Newman, had a conference with my parents and the parents of a child who was especially mean to me. They were filthy rich and Mrs. Newman said point-blank to my parents, that me being bullied was my fault. That was the last straw. They went to my principal, Dr. Root, and pleaded with him to transfer me to a different counselor. He said something that shocked my parents: that he would be more than happy to take care of me. Every Friday afternoon then on, I would go to his office at lunch. He would either order a pizza or have one of his assistants pick up soup and sandwiches at a local deli, and we would hang out and I would unload all my problems. He was a huge help to me and I don't think he'll ever know how much he meant to me.
Of course in 7th grade I WAS to blame for some of my bullying. I started up a lie where I met one of my favorite celebrities. I thought if I made this story up, people would see how cool I am. Oh, no. Not at all. My peers would ask me questions. I thought they were genuinely interested. Nope, they were just mocking. It was supposed to be one lie, but I went overboard and it just spread a wildfire. Of course one of the teachers called my parents to see if I was telling the truth. Spoiler alert: I wasn't. I had to announce to a lot of people that I lied. Well, then the teasing just went full-blast. I was teased for everything. My hair, the originality of my name, the music I listened to, the books I read, the fact that I read at ALL, the fact that I enjoyed writing.
My parents were worried about me so they took me to a therapist. I was diagnosed with depression. My therapist then told my parents of another school in Cleveland. They looked into it but were unsure, since it was a private school and would have to pay tuition.
The final decision came when I was invited to go to a party in 7th grade. Someone posed as a popular guy in school and said they enjoyed to see me there. I was so excited. I bought a new bathing suit and went to this party. My mom took me there but was smart enough to stay behind and make sure that everything was okay. It wasn't. It was all a prank. When I showed up, I got laughed out of the apartment complex. That was the first time I saw my mom's heart break. When I ran back into the car sobbing uncontrollably. Shortly after that I was enrolled into this other school.
The settings weren't as safe as my current town. It was almost ghetto Cleveland so I had to be careful. But, I had friends there. Not a lot - I still got teased, but I was just relieved I had friends. Eighth grade went by and I decided I was going to go back to my school district.
By then, kids had grown up, or at least somewhat. I still got teased but not nearly as bad as before. And in time, I was able to wean myself from the anti-depressants. Joining marching band helped too. I befriended a couple seniors that looked out for me. By sophomore year, I had a group of friends.
Senior year hit. By that time, most of the people I went to school with just either ignored me or actually matured. I remember an event called Challenge Day, where a few students came up to me beside themselves crying for all their wrongdoings for me. I will never forget that day for as long as I live and how much of an impact it had.
Some kids never grow up. Some peers of mine found the Youtube of a web series I was doing at the time. They laughed at it and were prepared to make video responses and mocking me. It pissed me off and upset me. But here's where this all kicks in, kiddos:
To anyone that is struggling with getting bullied/battling depression: Nothing. Is. Wrong. With. You. If you are getting bullied it means that someone else's lives are so pathetic, that they think so low of themselves, that they have to take it out on someone else. They make themselves feel better for making someone else feel like shit. I promise you, there is nothing wrong with you. You keep being you. You may not feel it at the time, but you are strong and a wonderful human being. Kids will eventually see it. It may take a while, but it is so worth it. And if you have depression, do not think there's something wrong with you. Depression isn't uncommon. Don't think you're above treatment. I promise, it will get better.
With love,
Liv
Song lyric in title: "Keep the Faith" - Michael Jackson
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