When I was 11 years old, I developed a severe case of acne. I hate that word. Only in the sense it defined me when I was a pre-teen/teenager. It's a wonder I've developed any self esteem in my adult years. Because I was known as "pimples", "pizza face", "red face", and "ugly". I'm not taking about a few red bumps and a few black heads, no pimples covered the entire surface of my face. Some were huge, some were small. All in all they were painful. I was in pain in so many ways back then. Luckily none of my bullies ever physically hurt me but the emotional scars are worse then the acne scars. This wasn't random every once in awhile bullying, it was everyday. Some even said it was all my fault. But how was it my fault? I washed my face everyday, twice a day. My mother took me to a doctor, well several in fact. I showered everyday, wore clean clothes yet I was disgusting because it was hard to look at me. They think it was hard? Try being the girl who looked like that. I still find it difficult to face myself in a mirror. This all took place ten years ago. I think that's what's wrong with people in their Tweens. They have no idea the impact they have. They don't comprehend that they are wrecking havoc on other Tweens. They don't understand the issues they are developing in adults who were these bullied Tweens. I don't think people raise their children to learn what you say and do has a lasting impression on others. These people ruined my childhood. They taught me a word no child should know...hate. I hated getting up in the morning. I hated going to school. I hated...myself. That's something that's hard to get rid of. It was also hard to love myself again. It was made harder because in reality no one cared. Not my mother, who just smiled and said "Kids will be kids." She couldn't understand why no one liked me. She didn't understand why I had no friends. No one wanted to be seen with the freak. It was my problem not hers. Teachers saw and heard but never stopped it. And here I thought it was part of their job. To protect the children in their schools, but they don't. Other students who didn't bully me? They didn't care. No one stood up for me. That's the bottom line. Then one day I had enough. I stood up for myself. And that might make you smile but you shouldn't because I became what they are. I bullied back. Because while I sat quietly by myself, I learned to people watch. I learned what other people hated about themselves. I through those things in all their faces. And overnight I became something to fear. They shut their mouths, they turned away in the halls and class. They left me alone. I felt powerful. I felt what they felt and I wish I could take it all back. I wish I had stayed in my corner because it makes me sick to this day what I did to protect myself. My name is Amanda and that's my story. If you learn anything from me, I want it to be that you bettered yourself. That you didn't become a bully too. You are better then that. Just walk away. Live with the knowledge your bullies aren't happy. They have issues too. Walk away, brush it off your shoulders. Tune them out and live your life.