I feel like my bullying story isn't nearly as bad as many others, but it still is something that definitely changed who I was and how I dealt with things.

Bullying started for me when I was 8. These two girls in my class would always tease me and call me fat and ugly and say how much everyone hated me. And since I was completely new to it, I decided that I'd talk to my teacher. I thought I was doing the right thing. My teacher would always say, "It's okay, I'll handle it." But, she never would. And it never got better; it kept getting worse. Since I was still kind of young, it trained me to think that this was how adults were. They didn't want to help you... They just wanted you to think they cared. So the next year, when those two girls began shoving down, taking my books and running away, knowing I couldn't catch up, I didn't do anything. I didn't tell my teacher or my parents. I hid it from everyone. And every day after school, I'd come home, run straight to my room, and cry. Towards the end of the year, someone else told the principal about the two girls. The principal brought me in with the girls, and told me to tell her all they've done to me. And after everything I said, they had an excuse for it. The principal believed their excuse over me. The bullying ceased for a while, but started up again a year and a half after that.

In 7th grade I became friends with this girl who made me feel amazing. She was always there for me, and she supported me and gave me advice when I needed it.

But of course, it was fake. For half of that year, she went behind my back, spreading hurtful rumors about me. And people believed it. Then one night during Christmas break, (specifically on Christmas Eve) I got a call from a girl in my class telling me everything. I was so hurt. I stopped answering her texts, phone calls, etc. When we got back to school, she turned it around and told everyone I was ignoring her for no reason at all, and faked being depressed about it. She continued telling people awful lies about me, and everyone believed them. I didn't tell teachers. What was the point? They'd believe the bullies over me, anyways. Eventually, my mom found out about it and went straight to my principal. She told her what had gone on, and she added, "And my daughter won't answer any questions if that girl is in that room with her." They never brought me in to talk about it.

Last year, in 8th grade, was when I began feeling the effects of all the bullying. I still didn't have any friends, and I sometimes sat and ate my lunch in the bathroom. On one occasion, I went to party, and a guy actually wrapped his hands around my throat and tried to choke me. I developed anxiety and depression and I began cutting later in the year. I almost committed suicide a couple times, but I chickened out.

Now skip to this year. I'm a few months into high school and even though I still suffer from depression and an anxiety disorder, I have friends who support me. I've met people that I've become very close to, and who can relate to how I feel. I have one friend who talks me through my panic attacks, which definitely helps a lot. I feel better, knowing that I no longer have to worry about the people that used to bully me.

My message to everyone is that although life cannot guarantee everything will be perfect and just how you think it might be, everything happens for a reason. There's so much to experience in life, so why waste even a minute of it? Go out there, and enjoy the ride. Stay strong.

Love,

Ashley xoxo