I was bullied a bit in school because I didn't fit in. I didn't learn that it was because I was a lesbian until I was 21. I have been out and proud since then. I have taken pride in showing the world that I may look different, but I get up in the morning and brush my teeth like everyone else, I work for a living at a regular desk job like so many others; in other words, that my life is the same as it would be if I was straight. When I started seeing my lovely wife who had two children of her own, we went about our business like any couple trying to raise kids. It turns out that the younger of the two children, a boy, was getting bullied. He seems to be one of those target kids anyway, but I found out recently that he is getting bullied because his Mom is a lesbian. REALLY?!?! We live where we do because it is more liberal than most other places. We never thought we would run up against kids whose parents are teaching them intolerance of those who are different. I had no idea how to get involved without making his life even harder, but The Bully Project is definitely giving me some great ideas. I will definitely step up now and do my part.

I was bullied as a kid from about the age of 7 to about 12. I was awkward and ended up growing into my beauty. My daughter is currently 12 and has been bullied since she was 4 in PreK. It has gotten worse and now as she is about to enter 7th grade I am terrified for her. I know how kids are. I know how vicious they can be. I just feel so helpless. The school is really no help at all. Hoping someone in the district will get the DVD pack and do a viewing in the school.

My town definitely has a bullying problem. They claimed "zero tolerance," but I was bullied from kindergarten through senior year. It was definitely the worst during middle school and junior high. Abuse ranged from physical to emotional, in person, behind my back, and online. I've been slammed into lockers, kicked in the face, given the url to my own hate website, and even publically boycotted; people said they wouldn't participate in gym if I was allowed to play. The school had the audacity to tell me that I was making it up...that there was no way it was that bad.

They didn't choose to listen...but now, I will.

I'm in college now, and SO happy that I didn't throw my life away at such a young age. IT GETS BETTER...it certainly doesn't help you now, but just keep your sights fixed on your bright future.

Keep your friends close; they can help you sruvive anything. If you don't think you have friends, that's a lie. You've got me; I know that any kid who gets bullied has something that someone is seriously jealous of...so I know I'd want to be your friend. <3

Good luck out there, and remember "If you can't see anything beautiful about yourself, then get a better mirror."

My name is Robert Ingram, I was born with a cleft palate and lip. Due to the scars and constant surgeries school was very difficult. Children seemed to really enjoy hurting me, wether it was verbal, physical or emotional didn't seem to matter as long as they each got got a turn at picking on the "flat nose".

I remember middle school was the worst. I guess it is because this seems to be the time in children's lives when they choose what groups they "belong" in. One incident i was working on a project in a technology class. The class was broken up into sections and we were paired with a partner. Sections were set around the class facing counters so we were facing away from the middle of the room. The hour was pure torture, ever time i would turn around someone else would throw something at the back of my head. Kids in the class would laugh every time i was hit with a book, pencil, pen etc. I approached the teacher and explained what was happening but he just said "Don't tattle".

I was really hurt, scared and confused every day. What had i done to make these people hate me? Why don't I fit in? When will i be happy? Who do i blame for being born this way? For some reason the hardest thing to do was simply talk to someone about the constant abuse i would receive at school. My parents were very good people and i should have been able to talk with them about it but i couldn't. I guess i was just to ashamed to talk about it.

Finally it all came to a head during a gym class, I was 12 years old. Some kids started to tease me, as usual, and i started to verbally defend myself. This lead to them telling me they were going to beat me up after class. The followed through with the threat and promptly "jumped" me after class. I laid on the ground being kicked in the face, punched and hit with various items. I remember looking up through the violence to see a teacher simply watching, did not break it up. The bell Sounded for the next class and they scattered, leaving me beaten and bleeding on the ground.

As I lay swollen and beaten on the ground I saw a pair of feet coming toward me, i figured it was someone else coming back to hurt me again. It was one of my only friends, he picked me up and helped me clean off. He handed me a card for martial arts classes which he attended regularly. This moment changed my life. Sense then i have been training in the martial arts for 15 years to date. I was never in a fight after that, that was not in the ring or at a tournament.

I share this story in hopes that it will spread and people will be more aware of the problem. I share this story so parents will really pay attention to there children and signs of bullying. Most of all I have dedicate my life to the martial arts in order to stop another child from having to share a story like i am sharing right now.

I really hope i can spread my story in hopes to help other kids and parents who may be going through what i went through as a child.

rewre

I lost my mother at 8 years of age and my maternal grandmother raised me.  To say the least, I was a very angry little girl.  A year later I found myself in the principal’s office because, I was the “bully.”  I was mortified, even back then.  I wasn’t raised that way and trust me; my grandmother wasn’t thrilled either.

Many years later I graduated from New York University with a Master’s Degree in Psychology of Parenthood.  Guess what I designated as my research thesis topic…  You got it – Bullying and mean-spirited behavior.  I spent a year collecting data and reading everything I could get my hands on.  I had to clear my name; just for myself. I had to prove I wasn’t a bully.  I was just angry about losing my mother. But some bully’s are angry, for many reasons, and they need our help too.  I was lucky! I had coaches, teachers and other parents who cared about me.  And with their help and my inner humiliation and resilience I never found myself in the principal’s office again.

I cried my eyes out while watching this film.   

When I was 6 (almost 7) years old, I moved from Florida to Washington. I immediately realized I did not fit in. I started out tan, and paled quickly - like, vampire pale. I was interested in books and learning, instead of sports and playing. I had glasses by 4th grade because I spent all my time on the computer. I was really nice - to the point where it was very easy to walk all over me. I thought "hey, who cares? I'll learn to adjust, and they'll get used to me." Oh how wrong I turned out to be...

From grades 1-7th I was hated. I got shoved around, ignored, called names. That was just the beginning. At first, it didn't really faze me. I still had some friends. However in 4th grade, I had been messing with fireworks. They were the kind that did the high pitch whistle sound - you know the ones. They had gone off near my ears, and that trauma caused something called hyperacusis.  This means certain pitched noises (or frequencies) hurt to listen to. For me, that was high pitched noises - like whistling.

Kids went NUTS over the fact that they had another method of hurting me. They blow whistles, mess with fireworks near my house, whistling right in my ears - anything that would hurt. 

I'd go to counselors, administrators, teachers, parents, ANYONE who would listen and possibly help. They couldn't do anything - they were just whistling after all. This went on until 7th grade. By then, I was a different person. I was no longer a dorky tomboy, I was a sleek goth. 

I dressed in all black, and had thick black eye liner. Eventually I got blue streaks in my brown hair (I never wanted to dye it black). Dressing dark was like having a blanket of darkness around me, it made me feel secure. I no longer allowed people to walk over me. I stood up for myself - sometimes even to the point of seeming like a female dog (you know the word). Seems like things were starting to get better, right? Wrong.

My self confidence and esteem had been shattered. I thought horribly of myself and others. I hung with a bad crowd, did bad things so I could escape from the world. I cut, did drugs, and locked myself away in my room. I eventually went on to attempt suicide 3 times, once almost dying. I was a broken girl.

Now, in 8th grade, I have begun to pick up the pieces. I stopped cutting, I cut out the drugs, and I'm at a new school, where I am no longer hated (in fact there's a group of kids like me!). I got therapy for my hyperacusis, and finally asked my parents to take me to therapy for my emotional and mental issues. I am going, and have been for a few weeks. Every week, I get better.

Now it all sounds like a happy ending right? Not yet, but close! 6th and 7th grade I graduated with honors, this year I am barely passing. This is because I had anger to fuel me, to give me energy. Now that the bullies are gone, I only have scars and sadness, which takes away a lot of energy. Thankfully, next year, in 9th grade, I get a fresh start in highschool. I have more energy and the willpower to actually take advanced classes. My happy ending is almost here.

When I was in middle school, I was bullied. I didn't talk about it with my parents or friends, I really had no friends at all. I was an outcast, and all the popular girls hated me for absolutely no reason. I believe it was because I talked to the popular guys like people, and not some prey like the other girls. They would call me horrible names, things that weren't true. Eventually I told my parents, but it was after I secluded myself and was so far in depression, I thought there was no way out. My parents went to the school, all the school  said was "we've heard this before, we'll talk to them" that never happened and it just got worse. Eventually, near the end of 8th grade, I got so sick of being called these names I took a stand. I turned around one day and said "call me that again, ill make sure you'll pay". I had never been in a fight in my life, it was really just an empty threat, but it made the bullying stop a little. Then I banded with some girls who used to live in my neighborhood, and it seemed to come to a cease fire. I'd see them in the hall last days of school, and they would just stare and whisper. It was my peace of mind. When high school came, if I saw anyone picking on someone I made sure to go to the bullied kids rescue, I knew what it was like, and I wouldn't let it happen to someone else. To this day i will intervene if I see bullying happening, people need to make a stand, and stick up for themselves, because there are not many people who will stand up for a cause, make a stand. 

Since the time I was three months born it always seemed like I had something go wrong.  Around that time my mother was carrying me down the stairs and she slipped, shattered her ankle and dropped me.  I ended up being knocked out cold and spent days in a hospital.  I ended up becoming really sick.  But when I was 9 is when it all really started. Right after Christmas on the 29th I was mauled by two 140 pound Rottweilers for over 45 minutes.  My mom ended up having to come and save me after my friend ran up the street to get her and tell her what was going on.  My mother came down and ended up getting me out of the house as the cops pulled up with the medics.  I spent 8 days in the hospital with over 1000 stitches and not being able to walk.  For 3 months I was in a wheel chair.  When I came back to school everybody wanted to be around me.  But, when it all calmed down is when it changed.  People started to notice the scars on my face and my legs more and more.  Seeing them they started to make fun of me, calling me scar face or dog food.  One day I had a kid tell me I should be hung up at Petsmart as a chew toy for other dogs.  Sometimes I had my friends there sticking up for me but sometimes my so called "friends" were the ones who would pick on me also.  That was in elementary school.  When I went to middle school I had the same issues, people calling me scar face or just being mean to me for no apparent reason just because I have chunks of my legs missing.  In 8th grade is when it got worse. As a result of my attack I was diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and depression.  I would go to school upset, always seem down and just hate life.  I always thought if I ended my life my dog issues and bullying would end.  But I kept going to school. I ended up having no friends because I didn't know who to trust or who were true friends. They all would just decide to point something out about me and say "hey is that a new scar?". People would just naturally one day decide to pick on me for no reason.  I'd have to walk around the halls just having people look at me and point and laugh.  It was a terrible feeling waking up in the morning and knowing you're going to a place where your supposed to be surrounded by friends.  But, what friends did I have?  None.  I'd go home after school and just sit in my room the whole time not wanting to do anything at all. I'd throw things because I was so angry and filled with rage.  I always thought of suicide  I always wanted to retaliate but I knew it wouldn't be worth it at times because I'd be the one getting in trouble.  One day I reached my limit when this kid kept picking on another kid calling him fat.  I told him to stop and the kid started with me.  He would take low blows at me for my scars.  I ended up having enough and I knocked him out in class.  Was it the right thing? No because I got in more trouble.  I was more happy it happened though because I stuck up for the kid who couldn't stick up for himself.  Bullying is a big issue and it needs to be stopped.  Who wants to wake up and know you will be judged? I don't think anybody does.

All my life I have seen bullying happen around me, as I am sure everyone has. I have been the bully but also the bullied. I didn't have it as bad as some kids but bullying non the less still hurts in any type and form. I used to watch others get bullied never say anything and sometimes agree as long as it wasn't me being bullied. I was also the girl who had funny teeth growing up. In school I sometimes didn't hang out with the best crowd, I got into bad things. I always thought I would like to go back to high school and do over again. Maybe be more social, try a sport, maybe i'd have more friends and have different experiences. In high school everyone tries their best to fit in and it doesn't matter what you do to fit in. I was one of those people. Yes, I was nice but I just would always go with a crowd even if it meant hurting someone else. Last year is when I really changed. I started going to the different school in the same town. I was away from my friends and put with a new group. I found myself focusing more on graduating instead of caring what people thought. Pals, my school, is where I learnt how to be the person I wanted to be. Last year I had a rude awakening. The most scariest thing you can ever hear is someone in your family talking about suicide. They said they wanted to kill themselves because of bullies. I cried for days. Even had nightmares of them going through with it. I don't ever want them to feel this way.. ever. So here I am, trying to make a difference, trying to spread the word and help stop bullying. I don't want people to feel bad about themselves anymore. Don't ever think of suicide because there is always a better answer. And for the bullied, be strong your day will come when you don't have to live in fear of being you. Everyone who reads this, remember you're beautiful, no matter what anyone tells you.