Listen To Our Bullying Stories

Fiona

My name's Fiona and I'm 16 years old.

My father left my heavily pregnant mom three weeks before my second birthday. She had been married to him for less than seven months when he left. He was an aggressive man, an alcoholic, and drug addict. He had abused me.

My mom divorced for the second time in her life. The first was from the father of my three step-sisters. My father, Peter, lost his right to see me, my little brother, and my little sister.

One day, he came to our small house. My brother, sister and I were still young, but my older sisters were around 13, 14 and 15. Peter demanded to see me, but my mom refused. Since he was outside and my mother, Anne, locked every door and window, he just broke the glass in the front door.

Peter is still homeless right now, and he doesn't even know my name anymore; the drugs, alcohol, and everything did that to him. Anne had to bring up six children, without money.

That's just the beginning of my life. I have been bullied for six years. It started when I was seven, and it wasn't really bad or anything back then, kids started to ignore me.

A year later, I was ignored more frequently and some kids wouldn't play with me anymore, saying I was different. In third grade, it got worse. Ignoring and 'not playing with' wasn't enough for them, the bullies. I was stronger than they thought and still tried to be friends with everyone. My surname was Den Haan; what means The Chicken in English. Everyday, I was called chicken.

The following year, things escalated. Calling names, ignoring and secluding were things I had to deal with daily. They started to use violence when a new boy in my class, Robin, noticed I was alone a lot at school. He was a kick boxer so he was used to violence. He used me as human punch and kick bag.

Two years before it stopped; the two separate fifth grades were put together. My class had now two teachers and 35 kids. Imagine having to fight 34 kids everyday, who all like to see you dead. In that year, I attempted to kill myself for the first time.

We went camping that year too. No one, except for one girl, wanted to be associated to me so I had to sleep with two other girls in a room designed for 45 kids. The one girl who wasn't bullying me left school at the end of the school year.

The bullying continued in my last year on, as people in Holland call it, primary school. I was thirteen, sick and tired of being hit, kicked, spit on, pushed off stairs, etc. I was stabbed three times with a knife in my back. One day, we came back from an amusement park. I stepped out of the bus, ready to go home, when suddenly, a boy from my class walks up to me, says 'This is what you get for being alive' and punches me square in the face, in front of not only my mother and stepfather, but also everyone else's parents.

No one did anything. I have missed half a year of school after that day. The government gave permission to that, because the situation was so bad.

Three years later, I stopped throwing myself off stairs, cutting myself and such. I went to the next level of school, our school system is different if you haven't noticed, high school. I still don't know why I was bullied, but I guess it was because I was smart. I have an IQ of 147, in the Netherlands is 102 average and in the US 98 is normal. Not to be selfish or anything, but yeah, no one went to the same level of education as I did.

I was the smartest of eventually 37 kids, who all bullied me and told me they were better and smarter and look who's laughing now. I'm going to university in three years and I will study hard. I want to become a teacher; A good one. I want to be a teacher who knows how bullies work. I want to help others.

My mom has blood cancer. She was always there for me and the foster kids we gave shelter to. She has been married to my stepfather since 2007. We haven't been poor since 2004 and my surname has been changed into Calon.

Now no one sees me as the ugly, stupid girl who was always crying and alone. I have friends, family and a future, but a horrible past.

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I was asked to share this with you guys so here it is. Please, stay strong Fiona.

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