It all started in grade 3, when I had to move to a new school. Not long after the school year started, we were all assigned a project where we had to do a presentation about our cultural background. Up until this point I had numerous friends. But that all changed pretty quick. See, I look white but I'm not. I'm Metis. As soon as kids found that out about me, they started to treat me differently. This I didn't understand. Simply because it wasn't something I did, but rather something I couldn't control. I was treated as though I had a disease or something. After a short while, it stopped. Or so I thought, but then I started to get picked on again. For the stupidest reasons, and other times for no reason at all. On top of that, my stepdad was constantly putting me down. Failure, pathetic, unwanted were some of the nicer things he's ever said to me. With my mom working evenings, I went from being picked on at school, to home where I was treated no differently for the rest of the night by someone who I looked up to as a parent. When grade 7 came around, I had 2 really good friends and a couple of other friends which were all boys. I wasn't into the things other girls were.  I'd rather wear jeans and a tshirt instead of "girly" clothes, I didn't care about how I looked, and I LOVED going to my uncles shop and help him and his business partner fix the cars. Because of this the girls in my class never wanted to be friends, instead they picked on me, so naturally I had more guy friends, which got me picked on even more. This went on right until the end of grade 8. I spoke to my grandparents about everything that was going on. They went and talked to my principal who did absolutely nothing. All he said was that kids are going to be kids and whether or not he talks to them, they're not going to listen, they're just going to do what they want. When summer came the bullying didn't stop. It continued through facebook. It got to the point where I just wished I was never born, that I never existed. This is when I started self harming. Not by cutting, but by taking salt and ice cubes and burning myself with it. I quickly became addicted to the feeling it brought and continued this for a few years, even after things got better simply because it felt good. It was how I dealt with my emotions. However grade 9 was a huge turning point in my life. I started a new school, and made friends. Real friends too. Not the fake ones I had growing up. It was also when I no longer had to deal with my step dad. He was out of my life completely.


Bullying hurts. Especially when it comes from a parent. But if everyone truly tries to help, things will change for the better and we will notice a difference. But no matter how hard things get, we can not give up. Ever. Things will get better, everyone just needs to stay strong.

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  • commented 2013-03-27 18:13:57 -0400
    Jane (assuming that’s not your real name ; ) ) Thanks so much for courageously posting your story to our site. To see that you have been able to take your experiences with bullying and translate them into a positive force in your life is incredible and your advice at the end is a testament for anyone who has been bullied: Never give up, things will get better!

    Thanks again for sharing,

    The Bully Project Team