Anyone who’s reading already knows that my childhood was not the best. In addition to the home life issues I had to deal with the fact that I was unpopular at school and bullied. This all occurred in the years before anti-bullying policies were even dreamt of and I was left to fend for myself almost throughout, though my mother did try to intervene one more than one occasion.
My first memories of being bullied are from when I was six and I was teased over my glasses and poor eyesight. I have the condition called Amblyopia in addition to having both a long and short-sighted eye and have worn glasses since I was three. For years I had to attend the hospital and endured patching and drops and trying to put the parrot in the cage or the dog in the kennel as the opthalmists tried to train my lazy eye. Along with my mad hair and my already book wormish nature it made me an obvious target and by the time I was seven I had alopecia, a typical monk’s tonsure. My mother noticed it one day across the dinner table (how I had covered it up for so long escapes me) and I remember a blur of doctor’s visits and lotions and pills but I wouldn’t tell them what was wrong.
Naturally she went to the school and made a fuss and things settled down for a while but it never stopped completely and when I was nine I began to be teased persistently about being ugly and poor and wearing hand me downs and about my teeth which were far from perfect and anything else that came to their minds. I learnt never to smile in front of these people and even now I can’t believe it when I am told I have a nice smile. Then they started beating me up so I had to invent excuses for broken glasses and bruises until eventually my Mum caught me trying to jump from a bedroom window and nearly killed me anyway with her verbal tongue lashing about my selfish behaviour. And so back to school she went.
This catalogue of bullying continued on and off until we all left primary school and I had some relief as the perpetrators went to a different school so you can imagine my horror when three years later I found myself back in the same school with them.
But this time it was a little different. With everything going on at home I was on my own, my Mum couldn’t help me, so I decided that I wasn’t going to let the buggers beat me. And whilst it was uncomfortable at times and I was still beaten up from time to time I began to develop the self confidence to stand up for myself and I had a few friends who made it more bearable and so I got through it and completed my education at school and went on to university where I found a whole new life of friendships and opportunities unlike the bullies ~ losers all.
But being bullied affects your psyche in an insidious way. One that is very hard to overcome. I find it hard to accept or believe compliments and have a very low esteem. My natural self confidence was seriously battered and I don't believe my own abilities and though I have shown myself to be capable over and over again I still seek proof of it. I also am somewhat overly self reliant and as has been remarked elsewhere have hidden behind masks, hiding the me that could be hurt from view.
I still have difficulty making and trusting friends (yes they too betrayed me) and I still have very few friendships with other women as the ring leaders were all girls and regrettably I seem to still have a sign around my neck that says ‘Bully Me’ as it followed me into the workplace. But that is another tale for another time.



