Bullied. I came from a "broken home", I wore hand-me-downs, I had glasses, I was one of the first in my 4th grade class to wear a bra, and I was plain. I often kept to myself. So many girls would "be my friend" and then turn on me. I was invited to one girls' house after school. She told me that she and another girl thought I could use a "makeover". When I got there, they weren't home and I felt like such an ugly loser. But I was guilty of making fun of a boy who had defects caused by the forceps that delivered him, though, so I was no saint. But when the other kids weren't around, that boy also came over to my house to play. Pecking order, you know. If they're making fun of Gilbert, they won't make fun of me.

In seventh grade, things came to a head. I actually stood up for myself in the schoolyard once. But the biggest event was in art class. I'd worked for days on a paper machie goose, and I was painting the final coating of white when Billy Eastmond took a paint brush, dipped it in black paint, and swooshed it all over the body of my goose. I lost my cool in class. I yelled. I got mad. I asked why they thought they could make fun of me. I told him what a jerk he was. I got sent to the pricipals' office. Yeah, I was sent to the principal's office! Though I don't know if Billy got in trouble, for the most part after these two instances I was left alone.

Bullied. It wasn't good to be a bright kid in a comprehensive school in early 90s Britain (sixth form was better though). Looking back, though, I regret a lot of my behaviour- my bullies certainly had problems, and there are other ways than the academic route, but I was blinkered.

Got some in grade school. Gave a little back in middle school. Nothin' much happened either way in high school.

There may have been stuff in elementary or middle school, but I don't remember any of it. Nothing in high school.

I was the queen of the geeks. I didn't bully, and I don't recall getting bullied. I was the social butterfly that could sit at any table she chose (as I recall), and I sat at any table I bloody well wanted to. Queen of the geeks was just that the geeky guys seemed to like me, a lot. Oh, speaking of the lunch room table drama, I remember walking into the cantina and seeing the cool dude that I had been noticing in the halls for weeks, so I promptly took my tray over to his table and sat in front of him. His response: "You're new here aren't you?" apparently it was unheard of for people my age to sit at 'the senior' table of his. See if I care.

Oh wait, in summer camp some 'cool girls' kept calling me queer (as in yelling it whenever they saw me) for getting my brother a date with a camp leader. Meh, I didn't really care much, they were likely total airheads. I think it all started when 'the cool dude' there had a boombox, and he was standing around looking cool with it, and to get his attention I went and turned it off, and walked away. So he came and slapped me in the back of the head - while those girls giggled - and my previous crush on him was now gone with the wind.

Oh, I seem to have a history of simply announcing my presence to guys I fancy. No problem with the old self confidence here, I guess.

Bullied.

No. And no.

Bullied in junior high, but it tapered off by high school.

In fourth grade, I was nominated to lead a group of girls in an insurgency against the snooty popular group, who creatively called themselves "The Group." I declined. Born Pacifist, me. Erp, well, except when you press me...

You see, later that year, the leader of The Group, pretty blonde Jennilee Henderson, was seated directly in front of me, but facing to my left. She was on an inside corner on a square of tables and I was on an outside corner. Anyway, It was the first test on long division. Me, the overachiever, was panicked, faltering. Quietly, in the silence and scratching pencils, over my test, I began to cry. She turned her head slowly toward me, cracked a sneer and quietly said one snide word: "Baaaby."


the wind-up... aaaand....
SMACK!

I got a week's detention. Worth it.

The boy I remember being the class geek, I distanced myself from a bit, but I guess he didn't hold a grudge, because he recognized me when he ordered coffee from me at a coffee cart at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk 12 years later, and we've been friends since! HE TURNED OUT MEGAHAWT (and a soon-to-be orthodox priest. Celibate. Ack!)

In seventh grade, some random chola girls called me "Roach" in PE but I was fully over it. I was like "Roach? Srsly? Drop out already, putas." (to myself.)

Bullied like a mofo in elementary school. Constantly. And considering the fact that in 4th grade, I started going to daycare (which was at the school) and the fact that so did the one girl who seemed to be the most vicious, yeah, I hated life.

My parents thought I was just being overly sensitive.

The worst part was that for a while, she befriended me because I was more clever at getting out of things. And then it was just oh so much worse after she realized that being a bitch ass ho was more fun (for her) than being my friend.

Bullied pretty much the entirety of my sixth grade year. We had just moved, so I was new, and I'm sure I was geeky but I wasn't any smarter than any of the girls who tormented me, and it was the era of poodle bangs and perms so I'm not sure I could have looked much worse than anyone else, objectively.

I remember one of the popular girls sneering at me, as I walked into class, "Where'd you get those socks? K-Mart?" It's such a totally dumb comment about such an insignificant thing (My socks? Really? You give a shit about the origins of my socks?), but it's the one that has stuck with me.

My mother thought I was exaggerating when I told her that I was always being stared at and talked about. But when people are making fun of your not - particularly - noticeable socks, for heaven's sake, it's hard not to feel like they're picking you apart constantly.

There was one point where a fifth grade bully and his friends would try to bully my friends and me. He was a big oversized guy, with his arm in a hard cast, and he was really rotten. He developed the nickname "The Claw" due to hitting other kids with his hard cast (nope, not joking either).

One day he trapped my friends and me on the monkey bars, and one of my friends fell off. He did something to her that made her cry, I have no idea what anymore.

And I, who had been bullied with the rest of my friends, was so angry that I jumped off the monkey bars and hit him as hard as I could right in the nose, just like I had seen on TV. Gave him a bloody nose, knocked him down (which makes no sense to me. I was a skinny thing then).

We both were hauled off to the principal's. He was given a month of detention for bullying. I was given a week of helping the kindergardeners during my recess times. I HATED recesses, and that was much more fun. I think the principal realized The Claw was a bully and I was just fighting back.

I remember being completely terrified taking the note the principal wrote to my mom telling her that I had been caught fighting. I have no idea what he said, just that my mom kinda laughed softly under her breath and talked to me about not hitting people, but kinda gently, so that I knew I wasn't in too much trouble.

After that, The Claw became Mike, and whenever other boys would try to tease me, he was always there first telling them to step off or they'd deal with him.

My sister and I laugh about that story a lot - it's so funny to me that he became my friend because I popped him in the nose.

Bullied throughout school. In third grade a known bully knocked me down on a concrete playground and I broke my right arm at the elbow. I've blocked out most memories of the incident but it didn't get me any breaks at school... I'm left handed. Up to at least 7th grade I was more often called Hitler than Wittler by schoolmates. Strange turnaround... one of my main tormentors in 8th grade went out for football in the 9th and was a serious "quarterback prospect" but was tackled wrong in practice - and broke his NECK. A full Christopher Reeves quadraplegic (and years before). There were still 3 other guys who bullied me through high school, the week after graduation, one of them, while celebrating with a trip to Hawaii, fell off a 5th floor hotel balcony, broke his NECK, this time fatal. For a long time I had this irrational guilt, feeling I was capable of Killer Karma. But since no MeFite more obnoxious than I have broken their necks, I guess it ain't real, right?

Bullied and ridiculed severely from about 3rd grade through high school. I won't repeat here the name they applied to me. Suffice it to say a large percentage of my classmates used it at one time or another. My principal tormenter died a few years ago. He was a drunk. My feelings were surprisingly mixed when I heard about it.

There was a period of time in fourth grade when a girl named Heather bullied me. She was going through some stuff at home (her mom had cancer and died when we were in seventh grade, I believe.) I ended up being friends with her in middle school. I really think the stuff in fourth grade was her working through her home stress.

In eighth grade a boy kept bothering me (in hindsight - the boy probably liked me, I just didn't get it at the time) and I told him that if he didn't stop bothering me that I was going to kick his ass. He didn't stop bothering me so one day after lunch I kicked his ass (by way of kicking him in the nuts and then kneeing his forehead when he was bent over.) I got paddled by the principal. (It was a very light paddling because I think the principal realized that I wasn't a bad kid or really violent OTHER than when people had been pushing me for quite some time.) I ended up being friends with the guy in high school.

There was another time in middle school when a girl I'd been friends with turned on me and started being a super catty bitch to me. I don't remember the circumstances other than I ended up in the principal's office. I ran into this girl a few years ago and didn't recognize her or remember her. She reminded me who she was and I still had to look her up in an old yearbook.

In high school most everyone left me alone because of kicking a guy's ass in middle school. And also because I was the lone girl freak (punky/gothy/free spirit) in the school until my junior year.

I haven't had any bully issues since middle school, really. I'm shy but don't really believe in taking shit from people.

A couple days ago, for no reason at all, i was thinking about how when i was eight or nine, my little brother and i got attacked by a bunch of much older kids for wanting to play in the snow in your own yard. Later some time, i think one of those kids hit my brother with a baseball bat.
We moved a lot and i got bothered every which way, starting with my older sister since babyhood to the boys the teachers told me "liked me," like that was some excuse, which it was back then.
i got harassed in every manner and i protected people from bullies. i started little posses of kids against bullies and made extra efforts for underdogs. i pegged people down, scared the crap out of people, used the cutting comeback, racked up the numbers, stood my ground, burned like napalm, and made people laugh.
Occasionally, i still get called in to do the dirty work.
It's a tie between regrets for being wrongly mean and defending people who i shouldn't have.

i know too many people who hold past pains hard and fast and never learn and grow past it.

Life is a struggle and life is wondering walk.
i could go get hassled right now or make someone feel great. i don't plan on doing either.

Play the ball as it lies.
It helps to have a club, but it's better to neuter someone with the truth in a humorous fashion.

Full disclosure: I was a cruel, cruel child from 6th grade to 7th grade, when all my friends abandoned me for being such a bitch. I had like, a revelation in the last month of 7th grade and stopped the cruel gossip, the insults veiled as compliments, etc.

The more I think back, the more I remember how horrible middle school was. Like when I used to hang out with a group of 3 or 4 girls, and they all decided I was too lame to hang out with them any more, right in the middle of lunch, so I had to eat lunch with the security guard (the only table left).

I was never bullied. One girl in my neighborhood tried to make me feel miserable in the sixth grade, but she was a loser and I blew her antics off. We saw one another in adulthood a few times. She always makes a point to be very nice to me and say hello. I am nice in return.

I was never a bully. One of my best friends to this day is my friend because of bullying, A group of mean girls constantly bullied her in junior-high volleyball. I stuck up for her and told those bitches to back off. She has loved me ever since.

Grown women have tried to bully me in the workplace. Again, it doesn't phase me, and they learn pretty quick that I cannot be bullied.

In case it didn't get conveyed, there were times when i was under the full brunt of every kind of harassment, mean girls, gangs, predators, oafs, drunks, rich kids, junkies-- a big part of surviving as a kid is not having a choice.
A big part of surviving as an adult is knowing you have choices.

Bullied by others, sometimes bullied others. Ouch. The older and bigger kids took their toll. They taunted me and many of them beat the crap out of me, including being held down and beaten by multiple kids at one time. I was no angel and sometimes participated in the bullying of others. They are some of those painful memories that you just don't wash from your mind easily. Oh, the being bullied memories wash pretty easily, but the being the bully ones do not. I am not talking about the fighting back crap where you actually win, etc., but about the times when the kids you thought were cool, and you wanted to be in with them, they were picking on a dorky kid and you (well, I) laughed, and then threw in a few comments for sport. Bullying is this thing that is not always one way. It sucks and I am so glad that schools are at least starting to try and reign in the terror and make this sort of behavior unacceptable. They have made strides on the physical bullying, but it seems they have made few strides on the taunting.

I am not talking about the casual boasting and joshing around, the pushing and shoving, etc. but about the stuff that kids do, especially in middle school, that they know is really painful to another kid. Getting over being on the receiving end for me entailed being able to forgive the kids who did it to me, without having to find excuses for why they did (bad households, older sibling bullying etc.). I just decided they were forgiven, and that pain drained. I only hope the kids I taunted forgave me, because that pain does not drain so easily. I just saw one of those kids a few years ago and he had come through with tons of confidence and changed his life. You could almost see everyone thinking thank God. I did not have the courage to tell him I was sorry for all the teasing I gave him when he was 12. I hope next time I see him I do have that courage.

I was certainly not the school bully, or even high up on that list, but at least in our school, the lines between the bully and the bullied were blurry and most of the boys, and it seemed even most of the girls too, played both roles at one time or another. Why do we do this to each other?

I was bullied severely for several years.

I don't talk about it anymore. Not something I revisit in my mind, either. It did help that years later one of my tormentors contacted me, and not only apologized profusely, told me what was going on in her mind and on her end. That put a lot of stuff in a whole new light for me.

But, no, I won't be swapping stories.

I was the nerdy socially invisible awkward overweight kid who stayed in the classroom reading science fiction while the other kids where out playing football on their lunch break. I could have gone out and played with them. I just really, really hated football.
Didn't get bullied, mostly left alone.
It was a small school, and there was no actual physical violence-bullying, just the emotionally-scarring kind. Mostly girl-on-girl taunts. The boys mostly stuck together.

Tough question. I fought, with fists and all, until I was 21. Then I gave it up. But it was defense, baby. I was never a bully. But I sure as hell fought back. Hard.

Never bullied, never a perpetrator of bullying. My primary school had an integrated special school, so we always had a few people with disabilities in class and I think the teachers kept a pretty close eye on it as the potential for bullying was quite high. I stood up for a kid once that I can recall - we were at After School Care and a kid puked and a group of stupids were goading him to eat it instead of telling one of the staff, but really that's the only incident I remember in primary school.

I moved to a new city and new school for grade 10, and for some reason some of the kids thought I was a satanist for the first few months, but even that didn't result in anything. For most of school I was pretty much as dabitch describes herself - accepted by all of the groups, kind of an inner member of some but not really, and I played the conciliator role between groups occasionally (the incident involving the letters to the 'Black Jean Sluts' springs to mind immediately).

Bullied. I've posted before, however, about how I got my ULTIMATE REVENGE. (It really is worth clicking the link. Click it!)

This is really interesting thread.

No one bullied me, I never bullied anyone. I was pretty independent, lived in a city where I could get around on my own, and didn't depend on school for my whole social life. I stood up for people when necessary, but the schools I went to were relatively benign so it rarely happened.

Oh, and jrossi? Wow. I'd missed that thread.

Holy crap, jrossi4r-you win the internet with that one!

That is awesome, jrossi.

Love the story jrossi.

I was bullied some in grade school...I was kind of a "nerd" and shy, and some kids took advantage of the fact that I never fought back. Ironically, by the time we graduated highschool I was friends with most of them.

Good grief, I'd missed jrossi4r's original post- fantastic story! :)

Awwww, great story.

I was bullied a lot - the neighbourhood I grew up in was pretty rough in some ways and there were a lot of kids around my age who had older brothers who would take anyone who touched their little brothers. There was one kid in particular who used to come to the stop where I caught the bus every week to go to Boys Brigade and who would say all sorts of stupid shit and punch me in the face. There was no way for me to retaliate because he had a bigger brother who was known to come to his defence very very violently if anyone so much as said a bad word to him. He used to pick on other kids that were bigger than him on a regular basis, safe in the knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted without fear of repercussion. The only way I could fight back was to let him have his fun and never let him stop me from doing what I wanted - passive disobedience before I even knew what it was. I hated that kid with every fibre of my being and I hope he has had a shitty life and/or death. He deserves nothing less.

Also, I grew up in a "broken home", sounding much like redvixen's description, which brought with it its own taunts and general low-key exclusion from cool kid activities.

I was pretty much a target for bullies for most of my school years until, during a big brawl on the way home from school one day, the red mist came down on me and I threw a punch at the toughest kid in the neigbourhood, knocking him flat on his back. I was something of a hero at school the next day and was pretty much left alone after that.