It starts out as the typical "I was bullied" story up until I asked my teacher for help and then my parents tried to help me. It was the adults that hurt me more than the other bullies.
I went to a school near where I used to live, a mile away from where I used to live, Sandy Grove Elementary, and it was hell. I was badly bullied and came to hate adults, teachers, and anyone with even a little authority over me. I thought I was too weak to do anything but it turns out that it was another way: the adults, teachers, and school staff were too weak to protect me (they didn't even try).
My mother went to the vice principal at the time because the Principle was like a ghost and every time my mom tried to talk to him, he was "busy." It was really laughable. Anyway, when my mom was meeting with the Vice-Principle, I was outside the room and she said and I [roughly] quote: "Unfortunately there is a student every year that is the target of bullying because of how they look, she has become the target. There is nothing we can do other than separate her from everyone."
Do you know how much that destroys a kid self-confidence? I was devastated. My mom home-schooled me for a year and that year severely damaged me. I constantly refused to leave the house other than to go to the store and I guess that's how I developed my reclusive-ness and reluctance to go outside.
To this day, I pretend to be okay with my weight and how I look to people but I desperately want to be able to wear crop tops, shorts, and form-fitting clothes without having to constantly be aware of the stares around me and the anxiety I feel when I step out in public. (Sometimes the anxiety gets to be too much and even get sick from it, which is the worse.)
Since starting University last year, I have become a little more accepting of myself but fear and anxiety lurks in my heart. I fear the stares, the glances, the whispers, the everything it is about being in public, surrounded by strangers. Thanks to University, I have been able to roll my pants up a little and recently I was able to accept skirts as an alternative to pants and even want to wear skirts out of pure love of the look of it and no longer being ashamed of my lowers legs. It took a year for me to be able to accept my lower legs so until I am able to accept everything I won't stop being uncomfortable.
The article should end with an "I love who I am in my own skin" type phrase but in all honesty, I am far from truthfully saying that but I can tell you that I really hope I am able to say that in the near future.