Bullying Kills

As amazing and memorable childhood is considered to be, I don’t think mine is one that I want to look back at.

I was 7 years old when we found out my dad was having an affair. And instead of giving him a divorce, my mum kept the family together so that her 2 daughters wouldn’t have to grow up under “broken” parenthood. But truth is, no matter how hard you try to curtain reality, it always seeps through to do its damage.

While the home had become this warzone of complications, I had an entirely different struggle to face at school. Bullying. As cliche as it may sound, I really believe that bullying kills. And it’s normally the underperforming students who fall victim to it.

Similarly, I wasn’t the brightest in my class. Having been someone who barely managed at school, I was also a nervous kid. Bullies would make fun of my appearance and all I could do was sit there quietly staring at the floor, hoping they would all just disappear into thin air. I would be called names, told to go back home, and was always left last to find a group for projects. After all, nobody wanted the weird girl to be a part of their project. Going home crying became the everyday norm, and with the family barely together, it was just me, myself, and I. A mixture of these two different lives had made my childhood more miserable than a Shakespeare’s play.

All those years of torment had made me feel so broken that I didn’t know if recovery was even possible. That’s when secondary school happened and I met new people, I made actual friends who accepted me for who I was. I even met a teacher who supported me throughout my struggles. These people are always there for me whenever I need them, saving me from going over the edge.

As amazing and memorable childhood is considered to be, I don’t think mine is one that I want to look back at. But one lesson I can always look back at is that there’s nothing more important and lifesaving than genuine connections and relationships.