This is my story of what I went through, what I have overcome and what has shaped me into the person I am today.

It all started long ago back before I could even talk. There had been abuse in my family. My real father Merle was the beginning of it all. At least for my part. All the stories of my father are bad, there isn't one good one. You see when I wasn't even born yet and i was still inside my mother, everyone one of my dad’s sides thought i was going to be a boy. They were making plans on who I was going to be when i grew up. But my mom knew better. She knew I was going to be a girl and kept trying to tell them this but they wouldn't listen... You see woman were thought of nothing but only a couple of uses. 1 to do the cooking and cleaning 2 for being in a mans bed. That's it nothing more but so much less...

So when I was born I was huge disappointment to them, I wouldn't be able to carry on the family name. They didn't want to even acknowledge me. But as the days and weeks went by my dad use to beat my mom, there was a time when she was holding me tightly and my father beat her to the ground with a phone. She always protected me from him. That side of the family for some reason tried to get custody of me kept calling the police on my mother saying she was a horrible mom and would throw wild party and would let guys have their way with me. Long ago on Friday the 13th my mom won custody of me, we like joke about how it’s our lucky day.. But they were quickly proven wrong and soon the divorce was final and my mom moved in with my family that i know today.

After we went to live with my grandparents my mom found Rick and quickly married him, but there was no love in that relationship. They really only married to change my last night and to get away from my real father. But with the court system back in the day my mom actually had to adopt me. But time went by and Rick only became another bad memory. I know he hurt my mom, I remember her crying a lot. The only memory I have of him clearly is going to McDonald and opening a present which was a Barbie bike and then we went to Holland park where I got to play with my uncle who was the supervisor of our visits. I remember him always smelling of cigarettes, bad yellow teeth and curly black hair. But that was the last of it.

But growing up I remember getting into trouble but I don't really remember what for. But I remember getting beating over the ass with wooden spoon till it broke and then she would go get another one till that one broke and eventually she upgraded to metal spoon. There were days and nights when I could sit down or sleep on my back because I hurt so badly. Then there was my grandfather who used to smack me with his big bear paws.

But my story really begins in kindergarten. I went to a public school in Guildford, and my teacher let us what power rangers. Watching power rangers was a big no no in my family household. But no matter how much my family protested nothing was done about it. Well back then my favorite color was pink still is pink though. But there was the pink power ranger, I thought she was really pretty and I wanted to be just like her. So in school we would play power rangers. or more like it was the other kids who would play power rangers. I was too ugly to tall just not power ranger material. so if I got to play I was always the bad person who always got "killed".  In the end I remember them pushing me into the dirt, pulling my hair, pushing my face into the ground. And well I also use to get pinned in the tires because I was in jail and then laughed at by everyone. There was one day I wanted to look pretty so I wore a dress, and well that was the last day I wore a dress for the rest of the year because the kids pushed me into the mud and I skinned my knees and elbows. Another time we have our buddies come and do face painting with us, and well I was told I could be the pink ranger is I didn't put too much onto my face... so I made a pink hat and got my face painted and I thought I was good, but the girl beside me told me I had too much on my face and there’s no way I could ever be her, I’m too ugly. By then I learned not to let my emotions show too much. So I just put on a smile for the rest of the day, and when I went home to my Guildford home I walked into the upstairs bathroom and cried as I washed my face paint off.

After that I was transferred into a private school.

Grade 1-2 were pretty good.

Grade 3 we were in French class and there was a activity  were we could all get out of our desks and go around in a circle on our hands and knees. I happen to still be sitting my chair not wanting to get dirty, and J came around with a pencil in his hand and I’ll never forget this because I still have the scar on my right hand. He stabbed my hand with his pencil and the pencil went deep into my hand. The led tip ended up breaking off in my hand, he then looked at me and laughed and told me I should be crawling on the floor like a animal. I sat there in shock not knowing what to do. The blood poured from my hand onto the floor, I wasn't able to say a word. As soon as my teacher saw my hand I was rushed to the nurse where my hand was examined, the lead was taken out and I was sent away with a sucker and was to ask to not speak of it again. In the back of our school there was a jungle gym it was called the “lobster trap.” There would always be a battle to get onto this thing; there were many times where I would be shoved off because I wasn’t cool enough to be on the “lobster trap,” so I resorted to sitting by the walls of the school waiting for the days to be over.

Grade 4 is where the boys began to bug me more. I would often be caught in the middle of being pushed back & forth from one person to the next. The boys loved to trip me; the girls like to chuck gravel at my face. A couple of times I had some kids come up to me and say, “I don't like you. I wish you were never born. “So I learned quickly to play in the woods. That was my home my peace my sanctuary. The woods were where I was free; I built forts and traded chestnuts for wood. But then I graduated to grade 5.

Grade 5 is when things started to became worse. There was this nice day in the field and everyone from my grade was playing soccer and I wanted to play as well, so I joined in. No one would pass me the ball no one who even acknowledge I was there until J kicked the ball at my face and hit me square on. I tried to laugh it off as I tried to get off the ground. He told me to stay down that’s were dirty dogs belonged. He pushed his foot down on my shoulder and pinned me down and pushed his dirty shoe into my shoulder. Soon I tried to skip p.e as much as I could because all I ever was, was target practice. Especially dodge ball was the worse it didn't matter where I was id always get hit in the head, stomach or in the back. I could be sitting on the side lines and I could see the others looking at me and throwing straight for me.  I’d come home with bruises, that’s how I would get in more trouble with my mom because I would steal her make up to cover up everything that was happening to me. Often I would come home every night hide up in my room and cry till I either passed out or until I felt I had no tears left. And so every time in p.e whether it would be volleyball, soccer, baseball or anything involving a ball I would run away from it all. But I guess the teacher never thought much of me always getting hurt, because I was always getting hurt and always being forced to play.

Grade 6 there was a time when I was sitting inside doing my art home work when the girls decided to come up to me and one stood in front of my desk another sat on the edge of my desk and the two other girls leaned on either side of me. The one girl standing leaned over top of my desk and grabbed my picture and held it up to the light and just laughed at it. I tried to grab it back from her but I was pushed down by the girls on either side of me. The girl holding my picture gave it to the girl sitting on my desk and she began to tear it up. I tried to grab the picture but the two girl beside me pushed me off my chair and kicked me in the stomach and left laughing. These girls would often come from behind me on the stairs and give me a helping hand as they like to say, where then I would fall down the stairs. I would often be cornered at lunch and I’d be promptly be rewarded with being grabbed by the hair and my face getting smashed into the side of brick wall or pushed into the fence and punched in the stomach. There was J who once choked me by pulling my hoodie over my head and tying the strings together, this caused the zipper to sink itself into part of my neck. There was a small crowd around me when this happened who did nothing to help, they just stood there and laughed and called me ugly.

Grade 7 I would often try and hide in the library, but they would still find me.  The same girls who had smashed my face into a wall, must have told the other boys about me being an easy target I guess. So this lead to me being harassed on a daily bases needless to say I was shoved, pushed, had rocks, erasers, pencils, pens, just random objects were thrown at me. I was around 5'8" and was always asked by teachers to take stuff down or help with anything tall, so I then was always called the teacher’s pet. I was pushed off the school stage, teased about my clothing and made fun of being my best friend died. Her name was shadow and she was a dog. I was hiding out in the library reading a book when some boys came in, they saw I was reading a book and in the name it said shadow. They commented on it as said “oh just like that dead dog.” They had met shadow and knew she was the kindest most well behaved dog but she was my one weakness.  So for the rest of the year they would always make remarks about her being dead just so they could see me cry. In the summer time I was invited out by the cool kids and thought my life was going to change. It was a Christmas in July party and I was so excited to go. But when I got there I was completely ignored and when I was spoken to I was being talked down to. Just always being told I was worthless, and I was taking up there breathing space.  Needless to say I called my mom’s boyfriend at the time and he came and got me.

This was the time I met a girl name Tara. I thought she was one of the prettiest girls I ever met. But she had a very dark secret, her father use to beat and rape her. And when I went over there I would as well get smacked around. But not that many people know is I watched her die. I held her that night when she took her own life. I had called for the ambulance but it was too late when they arrived. So from that night I changed I didn’t let anyone ever see what I really felt. I decided to close myself off to everyone around me.

Grade 8 I was put into counseling and some of these people didn't know what the hell they were talking about half the time. I was the victim and I was treated like it was my fault. I was repeatedly told by students that I should just go somewhere and die, because my life was over. Repeatedly being told these things, just made me more depressed. I even had a male student beat the crap out of me in front of my locker; I tried to crawl into the girl’s bathroom to escape, and ended up wedging my back against the wall and covering my head. I kept screaming at the top of my lungs till for help till one of my fellow classmates came and pulled him off. After this incident I went even farther into myself, I had no confidence in myself, no confidence in the people that were teachers or principals at the school and no confidence in my counselors. But I did meet my first boyfriend. He was older and I thought I was special.

But soon things turned bad, and when I did get the chance to see him things were never right. I refused to give myself to him, so he would always try and grab me. There was one day were I was walking home with a guy friend and he saw this. I made it home and saw him waiting by my door; he quickly pushed me inside where he began to slap me and kick me in the ribs and in the legs till I couldn’t stand anymore. And once he was satisfied that I wouldn’t see my friend anymore he left me. We were together on and off for 7-8 months, he lived far away and would come for a week every month to see me. But he always told me he had people watching me, which was true because at that time of my life there was always someone watching my every move. And everything would be reported back to him. One day when he was visiting and he got mad at me, the reason he was mad at me this time was because I gave my guy friend a hug. He thought I was cheating on him, so he took me behind my old apartment building and beat me till I became unconscious. I later woke up and made my way into my house and a couple weeks later I finally got help to get rid of him for good.

Grade 9 I entered high school. Again I stayed a lot of the time in library trying to hide from everyone. But when that bell rang to switch classes someone would always find me. I’d often be pinned in the washroom either beaten with a broom or my head would get stuck in a toilet and the girls would hold my face in the water till I barely moved. A lot of the time I would be pushed down the stairs and thrown into a wall or locker. I still tried to avoid P.E. and I always changed in a bathroom stall, if I didn’t I would always be laughed at for my body. I was told I was fat & ugly and no guy would ever like me, but if you gave it up to these certain guys you could be popular just like the rest of us. There were 6 different times where I was pulled from the girls change room and pushed into the boy’s room with hardly any clothes on. And once I was in the boy’s room I would be passed around from one guy to the next. They would try to touch and grab me but I would scream until someone came. They would often find me hiding underneath the sinks crawled into a ball hiding myself from others.

Grade 10 was the year I acted out. In the summer time a family friend hit me right across the face and pushed me in the lake and held me down till I stopped struggling.  Then school started there was a hike we all as a class were to go on. We began the hike, it started off okay I was talking with a couple of my guy friends. Then from nowhere a couple of girls came from behind and pushed me down the down and as I was on the ground they stepped on me and told me I was in the way. Every girl took their time giving me a kick as they either stepped on me or walked past me.

October I was seeing my on and off boyfriend D, and we were over at his house and we were playing around and he pinned me down and held my wrists with his knees and wrapped his arms around my necked. I remember waking up to him kicking me. He then proceeded to grab me by the hair and try and drag me. I kicked and screamed but no one was home. He finally stopped when I pretended to pass out, then he got up and left for a bit. I then walked to the washroom after a couple of minutes and cleaned up the blood from my face and the cuts on my arms. He then came into the bathroom where he saw me and apologized for what he did. I took the apology and forgave me; I thought this was normal relationship. The abuse continued. He would often push me down the stairs, pull me by my hair and try and strangle me. There was this one time where he did take an exacto knife to my side, as well as he had hit me over the head with a wooden bat. He would always tell me I was worthless, and would not account to anything in life.

Grade 11 was one of the worst and the best times of my high school. It was the year I hit rock bottom. You see I still continued to date my on and off boyfriend and things got out of control. His beatings became worse and worse by the month, there was this one time when he decided to bind my hands and legs and tie me up behind a car and drag me. Luckily a neighbor saw this and before we could leave his block the neighbor stopped him and cut me loose. I had a road rash along my back and my legs. We stopped speaking for a while, but in time I forgave him and we I guess became friends. There was this one girl from grade1-11 who always would push me down the stairs, slam me into lockers, pull my hair, and make jokes about my body in front of everyone. She was also the main girl who started everything. There was one day I was walking up to my locker upstairs to put my books away, where she came up from behind and slammed me into the locker. I then tweaked and took her face and slammed into the locker. I will never forget the look on her face, the look of shock and horror. From that day on she never bothered me again.

July was one month I will never forget. That was the month I met K. He was all sweet and kind at first. He even asked me to marry him. But that was all an act, within 2 weeks I saw the real side of him. He forced me to have sex with him. We were alone and he pushed me into his room and pulled on his bed and with all his weight on me, he tied my arms together and then spread my legs apart. I tried to fight him off, but I ended up giving up because there was nothing I could do. A week later I went to go see him, I wasn’t sure if he used anything or not so I was scared to get pregnant so I went and asked him. But when I asked him he punched me very hard in the stomach which made me fall to my knees where he kicked me and pulled me by the hair into the bedroom were raped me again. I later did find out he was using protection.

I have never been able to look at myself the same way since. I then tried to kill myself a couple days after this happened but my mom caught me and we had a long talk about life and we agreed that I should keep on living because there are people who do care for me, and life can only get better. It takes more to keep leaving then to give up and waste it all away. I wouldn’t let those people win.

Grade 12 started off with getting a restraining on an old friend turned stalker. But other than that no one paid much attention to me. If they did try and push me around I would fight back. I got into a lot of fights in grade 12. I refused to take crap from anyone. I graduated with my friends in 06 and couldn’t be any happier to get out of that place. But you know the bullying never ends, no matter where you go there will always be someone who thinks they are better then you.

Since I graduated I have been in a couple rough relationships. There was one guy who pushed me out of a moving car and tried to run over me. Another one proceeded to force himself on me. Then another who always talked down to me and closed a hot oven door on my arm which has left a scar.

But now I am a survivor, I am 25 years old and I have true friends that never leave my side and I have found the love of my life. I have a great support system behind me and I know I couldn't have gotten through my life if it wasn't for my family!

Its either we choose to give up or we stand up and fight. I chose in the end to fight my way through. Yes i did become the bully at one point but that was because no one would listen to me. I did what i had to do.

This is my story of what I went through, what I have overcome and what has shaped me into the person I am today.

It all started long ago back before I could even talk. There had been abuse in my family. My real father Merle was the beginning of it all. At least for my part. All the stories of my father are bad, there isn't one good one. You see when I wasn't even born yet and i was still inside my mother, everyone one of my dad’s sides thought i was going to be a boy. They were making plans on who I was going to be when i grew up. But my mom knew better. She knew I was going to be a girl and kept trying to tell them this but they wouldn't listen... You see woman were thought of nothing but only a couple of uses. 1 to do the cooking and cleaning 2 for being in a mans bed. That's it nothing more but so much less...

So when I was born I was huge disappointment to them, I wouldn't be able to carry on the family name. They didn't want to even acknowledge me. But as the days and weeks went by my dad use to beat my mom, there was a time when she was holding me tightly and my father beat her to the ground with a phone. She always protected me from him. That side of the family for some reason tried to get custody of me kept calling the police on my mother saying she was a horrible mom and would throw wild party and would let guys have their way with me. Long ago on Friday the 13th my mom won custody of me, we like joke about how it’s our lucky day.. But they were quickly proven wrong and soon the divorce was final and my mom moved in with my family that i know today.

After we went to live with my grandparents my mom found Rick and quickly married him, but there was no love in that relationship. They really only married to change my last night and to get away from my real father. But with the court system back in the day my mom actually had to adopt me. But time went by and Rick only became another bad memory. I know he hurt my mom, I remember her crying a lot. The only memory I have of him clearly is going to McDonald and opening a present which was a Barbie bike and then we went to Holland park where I got to play with my uncle who was the supervisor of our visits. I remember him always smelling of cigarettes, bad yellow teeth and curly black hair. But that was the last of it.

But growing up I remember getting into trouble but I don't really remember what for. But I remember getting beating over the ass with wooden spoon till it broke and then she would go get another one till that one broke and eventually she upgraded to metal spoon. There were days and nights when I could sit down or sleep on my back because I hurt so badly. Then there was my grandfather who used to smack me with his big bear paws.

But my story really begins in kindergarten. I went to a public school in Guildford, and my teacher let us what power rangers. Watching power rangers was a big no no in my family household. But no matter how much my family protested nothing was done about it. Well back then my favorite color was pink still is pink though. But there was the pink power ranger, I thought she was really pretty and I wanted to be just like her. So in school we would play power rangers. or more like it was the other kids who would play power rangers. I was too ugly to tall just not power ranger material. so if I got to play I was always the bad person who always got "killed".  In the end I remember them pushing me into the dirt, pulling my hair, pushing my face into the ground. And well I also use to get pinned in the tires because I was in jail and then laughed at by everyone. There was one day I wanted to look pretty so I wore a dress, and well that was the last day I wore a dress for the rest of the year because the kids pushed me into the mud and I skinned my knees and elbows. Another time we have our buddies come and do face painting with us, and well I was told I could be the pink ranger is I didn't put too much onto my face... so I made a pink hat and got my face painted and I thought I was good, but the girl beside me told me I had too much on my face and there’s no way I could ever be her, I’m too ugly. By then I learned not to let my emotions show too much. So I just put on a smile for the rest of the day, and when I went home to my Guilford home I walked into the upstairs bathroom and cried as I washed my face paint off.

After that I was transferred into a private school.

Grade 1-2 were pretty good.

Grade 3 we were in French class and there was a activity  were we could all get out of our desks and go around in a circle on our hands and knees. I happen to still be sitting my chair not wanting to get dirty, and J came around with a pencil in his hand and I’ll never forget this because I still have the scar on my right hand. He stabbed my hand with his pencil and the pencil went deep into my hand. The led tip ended up breaking off in my hand, he then looked at me and laughed and told me I should be crawling on the floor like a animal. I sat there in shock not knowing what to do. The blood poured from my hand onto the floor, I wasn't able to say a word. As soon as my teacher saw my hand I was rushed to the nurse where my hand was examined, the lead was taken out and I was sent away with a sucker and was to ask to not speak of it again. In the back of our school there was a jungle gym it was called the “lobster trap.” There would always be a battle to get onto this thing; there were many times where I would be shoved off because I wasn’t cool enough to be on the “lobster trap,” so I resorted to sitting by the walls of the school waiting for the days to be over.

Grade 4 is where the boys began to bug me more. I would often be caught in the middle of being pushed back & forth from one person to the next. The boys loved to trip me; the girls like to chuck gravel at my face. A couple of times I had some kids come up to me and say, “I don't like you. I wish you were never born. “So I learned quickly to play in the woods. That was my home my peace my sanctuary. The woods were where I was free; I built forts and traded chestnuts for wood. But then I graduated to grade 5.

Grade 5 is when things started to became worse. There was this nice day in the field and everyone from my grade was playing soccer and I wanted to play as well, so I joined in. No one would pass me the ball no one who even acknowledge I was there until J kicked the ball at my face and hit me square on. I tried to laugh it off as I tried to get off the ground. He told me to stay down that’s were dirty dogs belonged. He pushed his foot down on my shoulder and pinned me down and pushed his dirty shoe into my shoulder. Soon I tried to skip p.e as much as I could because all I ever was, was target practice. Especially dodge ball was the worse it didn't matter where I was id always get hit in the head, stomach or in the back. I could be sitting on the side lines and I could see the others looking at me and throwing straight for me.  I’d come home with bruises, that’s how I would get in more trouble with my mom because I would steal her make up to cover up everything that was happening to me. Often I would come home every night hide up in my room and cry till I either passed out or until I felt I had no tears left. And so every time in p.e whether it would be volleyball, soccer, baseball or anything involving a ball I would run away from it all. But I guess the teacher never thought much of me always getting hurt, because I was always getting hurt and always being forced to play.

Grade 6 there was a time when I was sitting inside doing my art home work when the girls decided to come up to me and one stood in front of my desk another sat on the edge of my desk and the two other girls leaned on either side of me. The one girl standing leaned over top of my desk and grabbed my picture and held it up to the light and just laughed at it. I tried to grab it back from her but I was pushed down by the girls on either side of me. The girl holding my picture gave it to the girl sitting on my desk and she began to tear it up. I tried to grab the picture but the two girl beside me pushed me off my chair and kicked me in the stomach and left laughing. These girls would often come from behind me on the stairs and give me a helping hand as they like to say, where then I would fall down the stairs. I would often be cornered at lunch and I’d be promptly be rewarded with being grabbed by the hair and my face getting smashed into the side of brick wall or pushed into the fence and punched in the stomach. There was J who once choked me by pulling my hoodie over my head and tying the strings together, this caused the zipper to sink itself into part of my neck. There was a small crowd around me when this happened who did nothing to help, they just stood there and laughed and called me ugly.

Grade 7 I would often try and hide in the library, but they would still find me.  The same girls who had smashed my face into a wall, must have told the other boys about me being an easy target I guess. So this lead to me being harassed on a daily bases needless to say I was shoved, pushed, had rocks, erasers, pencils, pens, just random objects were thrown at me. I was around 5'8" and was always asked by teachers to take stuff down or help with anything tall, so I then was always called the teacher’s pet. I was pushed off the school stage, teased about my clothing and made fun of being my best friend died. Her name was shadow and she was a dog. I was hiding out in the library reading a book when some boys came in, they saw I was reading a book and in the name it said shadow. They commented on it as said “oh just like that dead dog.” They had met shadow and knew she was the kindest most well behaved dog but she was my one weakness.  So for the rest of the year they would always make remarks about her being dead just so they could see me cry. In the summer time I was invited out by the cool kids and thought my life was going to change. It was a Christmas in July party and I was so excited to go. But when I got there I was completely ignored and when I was spoken to I was being talked down to. Just always being told I was worthless, and I was taking up there breathing space.  Needless to say I called my mom’s boyfriend at the time and he came and got me.

This was the time I met a girl name Tara. I thought she was one of the prettiest girls I ever met. But she had a very dark secret, her father use to beat and rape her. And when I went over there I would as well get smacked around. But not that many people know is I watched her die. I held her that night when she took her own life. I had called for the ambulance but it was too late when they arrived. So from that night I changed I didn’t let anyone ever see what I really felt. I decided to close myself off to everyone around me.

Grade 8 I was put into counseling and some of these people didn't know what the hell they were talking about half the time. I was the victim and I was treated like it was my fault. I was repeatedly told by students that I should just go somewhere and die, because my life was over. Repeatedly being told these things, just made me more depressed. I even had a male student beat the crap out of me in front of my locker; I tried to crawl into the girl’s bathroom to escape, and ended up wedging my back against the wall and covering my head. I kept screaming at the top of my lungs till for help till one of my fellow classmates came and pulled him off. After this incident I went even farther into myself, I had no confidence in myself, no confidence in the people that were teachers or principals at the school and no confidence in my counselors. But I did meet my first boyfriend. He was older and I thought I was special.

But soon things turned bad, and when I did get the chance to see him things were never right. I refused to give myself to him, so he would always try and grab me. There was one day were I was walking home with a guy friend and he saw this. I made it home and saw him waiting by my door; he quickly pushed me inside where he began to slap me and kick me in the ribs and in the legs till I couldn’t stand anymore. And once he was satisfied that I wouldn’t see my friend anymore he left me. We were together on and off for 7-8 months, he lived far away and would come for a week every month to see me. But he always told me he had people watching me, which was true because at that time of my life there was always someone watching my every move. And everything would be reported back to him. One day when he was visiting and he got mad at me, the reason he was mad at me this time was because I gave my guy friend a hug. He thought I was cheating on him, so he took me behind my old apartment building and beat me till I became unconscious. I later woke up and made my way into my house and a couple weeks later I finally got help to get rid of him for good.

Grade 9 I entered high school. Again I stayed a lot of the time in library trying to hide from everyone. But when that bell rang to switch classes someone would always find me. I’d often be pinned in the washroom either beaten with a broom or my head would get stuck in a toilet and the girls would hold my face in the water till I barely moved. A lot of the time I would be pushed down the stairs and thrown into a wall or locker. I still tried to avoid P.E. and I always changed in a bathroom stall, if I didn’t I would always be laughed at for my body. I was told I was fat & ugly and no guy would ever like me, but if you gave it up to these certain guys you could be popular just like the rest of us. There were 6 different times where I was pulled from the girls change room and pushed into the boy’s room with hardly any clothes on. And once I was in the boy’s room I would be passed around from one guy to the next. They would try to touch and grab me but I would scream until someone came. They would often find me hiding underneath the sinks crawled into a ball hiding myself from others.

Grade 10 was the year I acted out. In the summer time a family friend hit me right across the face and pushed me in the lake and held me down till I stopped struggling.  Then school started there was a hike we all as a class were to go on. We began the hike, it started off okay I was talking with a couple of my guy friends. Then from nowhere a couple of girls came from behind and pushed me down the down and as I was on the ground they stepped on me and told me I was in the way. Every girl took their time giving me a kick as they either stepped on me or walked past me.

October I was seeing my on and off boyfriend D, and we were over at his house and we were playing around and he pinned me down and held my wrists with his knees and wrapped his arms around my necked. I remember waking up to him kicking me. He then proceeded to grab me by the hair and try and drag me. I kicked and screamed but no one was home. He finally stopped when I pretended to pass out, then he got up and left for a bit. I then walked to the washroom after a couple of minutes and cleaned up the blood from my face and the cuts on my arms. He then came into the bathroom where he saw me and apologized for what he did. I took the apology and forgave me; I thought this was normal relationship. The abuse continued. He would often push me down the stairs, pull me by my hair and try and strangle me. There was this one time where he did take an exacto knife to my side, as well as he had hit me over the head with a wooden bat. He would always tell me I was worthless, and would not account to anything in life.

Grade 11 was one of the worst and the best times of my high school. It was the year I hit rock bottom. You see I still continued to date my on and off boyfriend and things got out of control. His beatings became worse and worse by the month, there was this one time when he decided to bind my hands and legs and tie me up behind a car and drag me. Luckily a neighbor saw this and before we could leave his block the neighbor stopped him and cut me loose. I had a road rash along my back and my legs. We stopped speaking for a while, but in time I forgave him and we I guess became friends. There was this one girl from grade1-11 who always would push me down the stairs, slam me into lockers, pull my hair, and make jokes about my body in front of everyone. She was also the main girl who started everything. There was one day I was walking up to my locker upstairs to put my books away, where she came up from behind and slammed me into the locker. I then tweaked and took her face and slammed into the locker. I will never forget the look on her face, the look of shock and horror. From that day on she never bothered me again.

July was one month I will never forget. That was the month I met K. He was all sweet and kind at first. He even asked me to marry him. But that was all an act, within 2 weeks I saw the real side of him. He forced me to have sex with him. We were alone and he pushed me into his room and pulled on his bed and with all his weight on me, he tied my arms together and then spread my legs apart. I tried to fight him off, but I ended up giving up because there was nothing I could do. A week later I went to go see him, I wasn’t sure if he used anything or not so I was scared to get pregnant so I went and asked him. But when I asked him he punched me very hard in the stomach which made me fall to my knees where he kicked me and pulled me by the hair into the bedroom were raped me again. I later did find out he was using protection.

I have never been able to look at myself the same way since. I then tried to kill myself a couple days after this happened but my mom caught me and we had a long talk about life and we agreed that I should keep on living because there are people who do care for me, and life can only get better. It takes more to keep leaving then to give up and waste it all away. I wouldn’t let those people win.

Grade 12 started off with getting a restraining on an old friend turned stalker. But other than that no one paid much attention to me. If they did try and push me around I would fight back. I got into a lot of fights in grade 12. I refused to take crap from anyone. I graduated with my friends in 06 and couldn’t be any happier to get out of that place. But you know the bullying never ends, no matter where you go there will always be someone who thinks they are better then you.

Since I graduated I have been in a couple rough relationships. There was one guy who pushed me out of a moving car and tried to run over me. Another one proceeded to force himself on me. Then another who always talked down to me and closed a hot oven door on my arm which has left a scar.