I never thought I would have the guts to share my past experiences of once being bullied. I am now in my 20s having an incredible life, but the scar that bullying leaves with you is so powerful. If sharing my story helps just one person, my mission will have been accomplished.
My story begins in my elementary school years where most people would only have distant memories of playing in the dirt during recess or learning how to add and multiply. I, on the other hand, have detailed memories of rejection. My elementary school was surprisingly notorious for children having hickeys and experimenting sexual immoralities at such an early age. I just wanted to be a kid. Classmates would see me playing basketball and tackling boys in a football match during recess time and just enjoying life. Yes, I was proud of being called a Tom Boy.
One day during lunch at the cafeteria, I sat next to some girls and was asked a question, “Do you like boys?” Now remember, I am just a little girl (this was 3rd grade), so my immediate thought process was “Ewww gross! Cooties!” So, I responded with a simple “No.” Right after that day, I heard rumors of me being gay. That news left me distraught for months. I cried for many nights because I was accused of being something I was not. I had strange interactions with people after these rumors were spread. One time during recess, a photographer for our yearbook gathered me with some girls to take a picture of us. When we were about to take the picture, I just naturally put my hand on a girl’s shoulder and she screamed “I don’t hang with you people!” in front of the whole group. I was paralyzed for a second and then I just walked away because I did not know what to do.
I was never physically bullied, but I was mentally destroyed through gossip and hurtful words. For the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to want to end my life in order to get rid of the pain of rejection. The choice I made in the end is what kept me alive today, and that was trusting in the magnificent strength and power of Jesus Christ. He was and is my hero. I just began casually talking with Him and asking God to be my armor and protector, and He did just that. I began sharing His love with everyone I met, and people would start saying, “Naw, she’s just a Christian”, and the rumors and cold stares ceased because they finally knew my true identity, a child of God.
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