Story 3

My Story

I experienced bullying for the first time at the tender age of 6. I was the youngest and smallest kid in the class, having a rare (weird, in other children's opinion) name and even weirder manners. Raised in a family of teachers, I was sitting quietly during the breaks instead of running around the school and misbehaving in any way possible. I was different, and that made me an outcast: other kids refused to play or work with me, except for the two friends that I had.
After some time I changed the class and appeared in different surroundings. I was accepted by the new classmates, who appreciated my personality and constant help in studying. Kids from other classes sometimes laughed at my name and behavior, but it did not affect me much. I was confident in me and my skills.

But then I had to change school again. And shortly afterwards teenage years started. So did bullying, worse than ever before. Looking back, I cannot find the reason why this was hapenning. Maybe because a shy, "weird" child is always an easy target.
One day my classmates simply began to call me ugly. This time I was "too tall, too skinny", had "a horrible huge nose" and "awful eyebrows". They would remind me of my flaws every single day, call names, gossip, and even discuss in front of me how disgusting I was. I was still helping most of them with homework and during tests, but no one stood by me.
Luckily, my teachers did. They noticed the problem and were doing their best to protect and support me. My teachers made the bullies keep silent. But, of course, they could not make them stop despising me.

I often said to myself, "If I am not beautiful, then I must at least be smart". Now this phrase sounds funny, years ago it did not. I focused on the studies completely, taking part in many linguistic and writing contests and winning most of them. I focused on the joy of learning something new, and that helped me forget my misery.
As my classmates matured, the amount of hate towards me reduced. In high school, I even made friends with some of them. However, one thing remained unchanged: I knew I was ugly.
It was not until the age of almost 18 that I first thought my classmates might be wrong. We invited an artist to do my make-up for prom, and she said to my mother, "We've heard that you have a beautiful daughter, but we had no idea she's such a stunner". These words will stay in my memory forever.