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Back in my hometown in Upstate New York, I didn't really have a problem with any bullying or slut shaming. Sure, there were a select few, but because I lived in a small town and grew up with a close-knit circle of friends, they protected me and never let it get me down. But when I was in my Sophomore year of high school, my parents told me I was moving to Maryland. I was devastated, as were my friends. To this day, I only talk to two of my closest friends from back home. When we finally settled into our home in the summer of 2012, I was actually excited to get a fresh start, to redefine myself like I've always wanted to. That was very quickly shut down within the first month of attending a new school as a Junior. Everyone else around me was preppy and very clique-y; they didn't want to accept the new kid who was very laid back and was more of a "T-shirt and Jeans" kind of girl. But none the less, I tried to fit in and started dating. Within the first year of living here, I had dated four boys, three of whom were younger than I was, and each relationship lasted no longer than 2-3 weeks because they bored me. I didn't see it as an issue since it never got past a kiss, I didn't do anything sexual with them. I just saw it as going through a deck of cards to find my ace, to find "the one." But nobody else saw it that way. I was labeled as a whore. A slut. A succubus that everyone had to stay away from. Rumors flew around school that I had blown this guy, f*cked that guy, slept with half of this team, flirted with half of that team. In my senior year of high school, destructive behaviors began. How could I have been a slut when I've never slept with anyone in my life? What did I do to deserve that reputation? I made myself mute in high school and began going to college part-time just to get away from it all. I drowned myself in school work just so I could have an excuse not to talk to anyone outside of my family. In October of 2013, a boy I fell in love with broke up with me the day of our six month anniversary all because I was "too emotional" and "he couldn't take that I didn't have any friends." That was my breaking point. I began cutting my thighs, slowly cutting myself off of food, and obsessed over how bloody and irritated the skin around my cuts were what I thought was "beautiful" at the time. My parents found out a month after and helped me stop, helped me to realize I didn't have to do this on my own. It took me a year to fully recover from all of the depression and suicidal thoughts. At that time, I found the man that I'm in love with today. He treats me like a princess, makes sure that I'm happy, and makes it a point to help me work on my communications skills (as you may have put together, I don't like talking to people about my issues as a result of the bullying). My point in my tale is this: It will get better, even if it may not seem like it now. I've been through it all. I know what it feels like to not want to be here anymore. I still have days where I get depressed, but I'm lucky enough to have a supportive family and a supportive, loving boyfriend. I am 18 years old now, and I do not let my bullying experience and slut shaming high school years define the woman I am today. - Miranda Cardillo
During the first week of my Freshman year of high school, I got my first boyfriend. We went to the free movie night that the city park held every weekend during the summer, and neither one of us could tell you what the movie even was because we were making out in the grass, a tangle of arms and legs and lips all mashed together. It was terribly romantic. In retrospect, I feel bad for the horde of friends that were sitting near us having to listen to our sloppy make-out session for two hours. After the movie, he and I went off to find somewhere more private because I wanted him to touch my boobs without people looking at us. He told me that his parents were out of town, so we went to his house. When we got there, we were making out some more, and I let him touch my boobs, and then he asked if we could have sex, and I said that I guessed it was okay, as long as we used condoms because I was way too young to be getting pregnant. He didn't have any, and couldn't find where his parents stashed theirs, so I told him no way. That's when things started to go downhill. He held me down and rubbed his crotch on mine and begged me to let him have sex with me. I kept saying no, and asking him to let me up but he wouldn't. After awhile, it became apparent to me that he had no intention of letting me go until we had sex, so I finally gave in. I knew that what he was doing was rape because he didn't stop when I said to stop, and that I hadn't really consented because he forced me, but unfortunately, many high-schoolers are not so enlightened, including him.
After it happened, I asked him to please not tell anyone what we did, and he agreed. The next day at school, I walked into the classroom where we shared a class with a lot of our mutual friends, and he was already there talking to a huge crowd of male friends. They were pressing him to find out how far he'd gone with me, and he said, "She made me promise not to tell." They said, "THAT MEANS YOU DID IT! You had SEX!!!" and then he said, "Yeah, we had sex!" Right then, my fate was sealed, and I'd be known as a slut for the rest of the time I went to that school. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die because now he'd told everyone who saw us sucking face all night that we'd had sex, and there was no chance anyone would believe me if I told them I hadn't wanted it. It was then that I resolved that, since "no" couldn't stop a guy from taking advantage, then I just wouldn't say "no" anymore. You can't rape the willing, right? That philosophy of mine tainted every sexual partner I had from then until I was 18, but I am getting ahead of myself. Our relationship was a rocky one, constantly on and off. When we were "on," he treated me like an afterthought. I was pretty much a warm hole for him to put his dick in. When we were "off," he'd tell all of our friends that I was crazy, slutty, overemotional, and a bitch. Only one or two ever saw through all that bullshit, although they still didn't believe me when I told them that he had raped me. They didn't think that I'd want to get back together with him over and over again if that were true. In reality, his forcibly taking my virginity made me feel like he owned me, or at least a part of me, and I wasn't complete without that part that he had, so I had to be with him so I could be whole. Towards the end of Freshman year, I started dating a senior. Red flag 1: He wanted us to be a "secret." Red flag 2: He didn't like me hanging out with my friends because "they're so immature and I don't like them and you're better than them." Red flag 3: If I got a text message while I was out with him, he would take my cell phone and read it and if it was from someone he didn't like, he'd keep my cell phone until he dropped me back off at my house. A bajillion red flags to top it off: Even though he told me I was "too good" to hang out with MY friends, when we hung out with his friends, I was "the little slut" and the "dick-sucking whore." I laughed along with them when he and they would refer to me as such, and when his friends would ask to touch or see my boobs, HE was the one who gave permission. I wasn't even asked. I went along with it, though, because I thought if I don't say "no" then it's okay, but if I DO say "no" then they'll just ignore me and it will be bad. (Terrible mindset.) After 3 months, he broke it off with me because I was "too clingy." (Of course I was too clingy. He isolated me from all my friends and made it so he was the only person I felt safe around. Ironic, since he was the person who was making me unsafe to begin with.) My sophomore year was marked by another on-off relationship, but that relationship was actually pretty good. While we were together, he always respected my wishes, and while we were apart, he refrained from trash-talking me or trying to turn my friends against me. The REAL problem in my sophomore year was with the on-again-off-again-boyfriend of my friend, let's call her "Trish," who, during what I THOUGHT was one of their "off" phases, (and during one of my off phases with my Sophomore on-off boyfriend) Trish's boyfriend expressed interest in me. It turned out that they were officially "on," but Trish wasn't putting out because every time she did, they broke up, so she was holding out so that he would respect her more. (LOL riiight.) So, he asked me if I wanted to go for a ride in his car, and I agreed. While he was driving, he asked if I would give him road head, and I didn't see the harm in that (MORON! Talk about distracting the driver!!) so I did. When we got out to.... the middle of freaking nowhere... He asked if I'd ever done anal, which I hadn't. He asked if I wanted to, and I said no. Then he asked if I would. That's when my can't-rape-the-willing-so-always-be-willing mindset kicked in, and I said yes. It hurt REALLY BAD because 1) I'd never done it before. 2) His dick was HUGE. 3) Neither one of us knew enough about anal sex to have any LUBE!!! I started crying almost right away, and he asked if I was okay, and I said "It just hurts," and he asked if I wanted him to stop, and I didn't say anything, so he kept going. The next day at school, Trish slapped me across the face and called me a slut, whore, bitch, etc. Every name in the book. She told me that she new I had cheated with her boyfriend and that I'd let him have anal sex with me and that made me a dirty skank. I tried explaining that I'd thought they were broken up. He TOLD me they were broken up! She told me that they weren't broken up, but even if they were, I knew that Trish loved him, so how could I even think of doing anything with him??? Of course, she forgave him, but she never, ever forgave me. I lost a couple of other friends over that, too, because they agreed with her: You DON'T EVER sleep with a friend's ex. Trish's boyfriend still talked to me. But from then on, that's all we did. We actually got to be quite close friends. Whenever Trish was mad at him, we'd talk about what a bitch she was. My junior year of high school, I moved back to my hometown to live with my Dad. My reputation didn't travel that far. I kept a low profile there, and didn't have too many boyfriends. My senior year, I got together with a very kind boy in my own grade. I am ashamed to admit it, but I was pretty cruel to him. I like to blame it on the fact that I was so abused in many of my relationships prior, and that was just how I knew to be IN a relationship, but it's also partly because I just didn't respect him. He was taking 11th grade English in one of his elective slots because he'd failed it the previous year. I was a straight-A student without even trying. I never saw him as my equal, but in kindness, heart, and compassion, he outstripped me BY FAR. Anyway, I spent Spring Break back where all the trouble happened. I texted Trish's boyfriend to see what he was up to, and he told me that he and Trish had broken up again and he thought it was for good that time and all he wanted was to have sex with someone else and forget all about her. He wanted me to have sex with him. I told him that I couldn't because I was in a relationship and wouldn't cheat. He kept on asking and asking over and over, just like my Freshman boyfriend, but this time, it was over text messages. He couldn't hurt me, or so I thought. I believed I had the power. Finally he gave up and asked if I would just come hang out with him. It was around 2 A.M., so I had to sneak out to meet him. I got into his car, he drove out to the middle of nowhere, and he raped me. There wasn't even the illusion of consent that time. Of course, he told me that if I told anyone, he'd tell them I was lying, and nobody would believe me because we'd done it before, I was KNOWN for being a slut, and I snuck out of my house to meet him in the middle of the night of my own free will. I got back to my hometown, and my boyfriend, I couldn't even let him touch me. I felt so awful. I felt used, abused, and I hated what had been done to me, but I also felt GUILTY for letting it happen. What did I expect, sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet someone who I KNEW wanted to have sex with me? I got into his car on my own. I should have known what would happen. My boyfriend found the text messages, which included things from Trish's Boyfriend like, "You liked it last time," and "Come on, we're great together, and nobody has to know." And things from me like, "You know I'm sexually attracted to you, but you also know I have a BOYFRIEND," and "If I were single, it would be different. I would fuck you in a heartbeat." So he drew the only conclusion that made sense to him: I'd cheated. He confronted me. At first, I was just angry that he went through my phone. It was a violation of privacy, and he should have trusted me enough to not do that. When he countered by saying that I wouldn't have a problem with it if I didn't have something to hide, and who was this guy anyway, and was he better than (senior boyfriend) and was that why I hadn't wanted him touching me, because this other guy was so much better than (senior boyfriend)?? That's when I broke down crying and told him the whole story. Before that, he hadn't even known about my freshman year. I never claimed to be a virgin, but I hadn't told him that I wasn't, either. He was SO kind, and SO understanding. He told me OF COURSE a "yes" under coercion didn't count as consent. OF COURSE I had the right to trust a long-time friend, and OF COURSE it was not my fault that my trust, and my body, had been violated. We ended up breaking up after senior year when I went off and joined the military, and he flunked BOTH his English classes, and a history class, and had to repeat senior year. He did help me tremendously, though, in taking back my ability to say "no." Hearing confirmation of what I'd always thought to be true, but still doubted because nobody, not even my own mother, believed me, and FROM a sexual partner, made me realize that I was allowed to say no. And that anyone who ignored the "no" and forced a "yes" was a rapist. I did not deserve to be raped. I did not deserve to be called a slut because I was raped. Nobody deserves to be called a slut. The shift from elementary school to middle school can be very traumatic. Girls can be very mean, especially girls in Junior High. I was twelve years old and kind of a loner. I became friends with this girl Lisa who was confident and dressed in fun, flamboyant clothing. We had a blast expressing ourselves though our clothing. We loved Hollywood, bright colors, vintage & leopard print, we also loved feathers and glitter. Neither of us had breasts so there wasn't any cleavage involved. We didn't pay attention to boys because we were too busy having too much fun. We were unique and I guess people didn't like that. The first comments we heard were that we were lesbians. This was in 1973 during a time when people were very closeted. Then another group started spreading a rumor that we were sluts and whores. The truth of the matter is that neither of us had ever even kissed a guy and we had no interest in each other like that. Lisa left that school the next year. We continued to be friends (and still are). I remember feeling very isolated and out of place. I continued at that school for two more years. I was very depressed. I wrote poems, I remember part of one: "they treat me like I'm from Mars but, I'm not! I'm human, I have feelings too." I used to think about ways that I could kill myself. Luckily, I was never successful. I had very low self esteem and nervous ticks. My mom took me to a therapist who prescribed Valium. This label of "slut" stuck with me internally and later in my life, I was free with my body. I was looking for love but at times I was used. It took me many years to battle my depression and low self-esteem. I am 54 now and I can honestly say, I've managed to heal myself. I am a strong woman and I no longer have negative self talk. This is a terrible thing that children do to each other. My daughter was bullied this way too but, together we worked through it and she is a strong, happy and successful woman. - Cynthia
I was born 30 years ago, at 26 wks. My parents were in shock, uncertain of what to do with a preemie & so exhausted. During my stay in the NICU that lasted a few months, my parents went to Florida, and apparently needed to get away from the stress. That's when the neglect began. As a toddler I was diagnosed with CP. I defied numerous odds, as I was not supposed to live. My father travelled a lot for work, & my mother was an alcoholic, stressed, & bulimic. She took her stress out on me - physically, emotionally, & eventually sexually... She believed I was helpless because of my CP, so she insisted on bathing me and taking care of all hygiene needs - until I was 19 & left the house for college. It was a consistent battle to escape her anger, wrath, & abuse. I'd been taking care of her, in her drunken state since I was young. I'd do all that I could to sneak a shower on my own. She always noticed though & that made things worse for me. I developed an eating disorder & began to self-harm, wanting to control SOMETHING of my own. There was no space to breathe. I was both suffocated & neglected (during her blackouts, lack of fresh food, etc.) for years. If things weren't exactly her way, there were major repercussions for me. I was exposed to porn & her sex with multiple partners. She strategically placed items & sex toys where I'd see them. As with many survivors, I was told to never say anything... That bathing me was normal, that I was dirty & could never clean myself as well as she could. I never told anyone about the abuse until I was in residential treatment for my ED during college. It had to be reported because of my CP & that things happened when I was a minor. She's never let me live that down. Ever. Years later, assault would continue, but from a female 'best friend'. Thankfully, I've been able to work through this over the years and am a therapist myself. I'm still uncertain about sex & intimacy - waiting to be hurt, expecting it. It's often crippling. I know this is something I'll be working through for the rest of my life, or at least it seems so.
I understand what it is like to be called sexual names. I was harassed in high school by the boys. They had a very bad rumor about me. Guys even chased me around the school for fun or to flip my skirt. Even had a guy tell me how he pleasures himself and wanted me to join him. I have been touched wrongly. I am glad someone is putting the word out there and how it affects us. I became addicted to people saying those things, even though I loathed it. After high school I sank into a depression. I would not eat and I would self harm. I thought many times, "Does everyone see me that way?" and I wanted it to end. I like to think, what if the roles were reversed? Maybe they would understand we don't like being whistled at like a dog, or "brushed up" against. Nor do we care if you're on the little blue pill, nor do we like it when you chase us "just to talk" or pin us against the wall and try to kiss or touch us. Been there, it really sucks. I now wear a ring on my left hand so men will leave me alone and if they start a conversation, I twist the ring around. I had one guy say, "I see your married, that's so sad, we could have been good together. Here's my number just in case you want to have fun." This man was old enough to be my grandfather.
My story is the ironic counterpart of slut shaming. When I was a teenager through my early twenties, I was heavily involved in a drinking lifestyle. One of the quirks I developed was a tendency to enjoy kissing boys, but I never wanted more. My friends nicknamed me the kissing bandit because I would just kiss the boys and run away. It all seemed very innocent to me. Very quickly, I became a bit of a game for my friends. They would make bets about when I would have sex. Soon, I was called a "tease" on a regular basis. Even one of my closest friends (who was a little more promiscuous) told me she would hate me if she was a guy because I'm such a dick tease. I handled it playfully for the most part, knowing it just wasn't I wanted. It was fun to be affectionate with boys, but I knew my limits. I felt "why shouldn't I be able to just kiss boys?" It didn't seem so bad to me. I would even tell them ahead of time that I didn't plan on sleeping with them, just so they couldn't call me a "tease" and act like I led them on. I was a virgin until I was raped at 21. By this time, I felt like it was my own fault because I was such a tease. It was a man I was dating and he insisted he "had to" after I said no countless times during an up-till-that-point enjoyable make out session. Just the night before I had told him I was a virgin and didn't want to have sex with him. He said it was fine and he understood. I went into the date feeling confident and safe because he knew my limits and respected my boundaries. I drank too much and couldn't defend myself. I never called the police because I felt like I deserved it, like no one would care or believe me because everyone knew what a tease I was. Within a few months of this incident, I checked myself into rehab after falling into a devastating spiral of depression and drowning myself in alcohol. But, I couldn't drink away the memories. Not of the bets, the names, the constant outside interest in whether or not I had sex yet. Now, in my 30's, it still hurts to look back on. You are a slut if you do, a tease if you don't. We need to stop paying so much attention to each other's sex lives. I guess I don't understand when it became anyone else's business whether I'm having sex, much less how often. Or why people feel it's their job to tell you what they think about your sexual decisions. One thing is for sure. It never had anything to do with my sex life. It had everything to do with other people being judgmental assholes. - Anna D.
I still struggle with some things today, but have kept up the fight to make myself stronger.10/17/2019
I'm not sure when or how it started, but I do remember that I was bullied and outcast in a small school. I think I was in 3rd or 4th grade when the tag "Slut" was placed on me and I would hear people laughing and talking about me and calling me a slut. I went through the rest of that school and into high school with that label, amongst many others. I had to fight back and I made the same kind of comments to others to get them to stop. But what they don't know is during that time in high school I was suicidal and became a cutter. I showed up with a "happy" smile, hoping I was able to hide the hurt but wishing I could die almost everyday. I still struggle with some things today, but have kept up the fight to make myself stronger and to better myself for myself and not anyone else. And I am finally getting a tatoo worthy of covering my scars from when I cut. A Phoenix rising from the ashes as I have risen above the pain and hurt of my past. - Jennifer Collins
I was called a slut when I was just 12 years old. The girl was mean and brutal and recruited more mean and brutal girls in her plight to break me down. This continued through junior high and most of high school. Daily these girls would corner me and do things like slam my head into the water fountain as I was drinking or body slam me as I walked past them in the hall, head down praying for God to just make me invisible. They were relentless. It was every single day. Not a day went by that they didn't in some way brutalize me and humiliate me in front of everyone. I went running out of classes crying and I would end up being the one in trouble for leaving class. I didn't understand why the adults in charge couldn't see what was happening. They down played it and convinced themselves that "kids will be kids," like it was some kind of rite of passage that everyone goes through. It made every single day dark and heavy and uphill. My grades slipped, I didn't want to go to school, I would skip if I had a chance. And the thing about it is that when this bullying began, I was not a "slut." Not even close. In fact, I was a virgin.
But the result was devastating, though. I became a "slut." I wasn't having sex with everybody, but damn close. If a boy wanted to put his hand up my shirt, I would let him. If he wanted to put his hand down my pants, sure, why not? I know now that what I really wanted was the love and respect of someone, anyone, but I just didn't know how to go about getting that. I thought if I let them put their hand up my shirt then they would give me what I needed. Then when I was 16 I made the fateful decision to sneak out of the house to go hang out with a much older boy, who was actually in his early 30's. At the time that didn't seem disturbing to me at all. I had no idea of the sinister plan that "Bobby" had for me that night. He was going to carry out his end game with or without my consent. That night I was raped. That was the beginning of the end for me. I developed a heroin habit that stayed with me for 17 years. Fast forward and I was released from prison on February 27, 2011. Since then I have been clean & sober for 5 years and have grown exponentially. I wish I could walk into every junior high, every high school, and into every insecure young girl's life and make them see their value. I wish I could make them know that they are worth so much more and that there is so much more to life than that moment and those few years. I wish I could teach them to hold their heads up high when they walk. I wish I could tell them that if they don't want to give their bodies away, they don't have to. I wish I could tell them that the problem is with the girls calling them a slut and not with them. I wish I could prevent those deep psychological wounds from ever being gashed wide open. I know they are hurting, I know they cry alone, I know they sometimes think about ending it all because they can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can still vividly recall those feelings as if it were yesterday. Pain and torment like that doesn't ever seem to truly go away, or at least the memory of it doesn't. I don't know why girls make the decision to be cruel but I know that teenage girls can be some of the cruelest creatures on earth. If I could say anything to the girls of the world that suffer the bullying and slut shaming the way I did, it would be to tell them how beautiful they are and that it's okay to talk about what's happening to you. Talk about it to anyone who will listen. Take the power away from the bully. Tell your parents, tell your teachers, tell your principals, tell your friends. Tell someone, anyone. It doesn't make you uncool to tell, it makes you empowered. It sends a message that you will not stand for this treatment and sets the tone for how people will treat you for the rest of your life. You are worth so much more. I was raised in a culture where women were not allowed to have any kind of physical or sexual relationship until they were married. When I was molested, my body began to develop faster than normal. I thought people would know that I wasn't a virgin anymore. Later on there were incidents where I was groped in public. In the winter of 2002 I went to Rockefeller Center with my family and a man sexually assaulted me. An undercover police officer had seen the assault and arrested the man. I thought that it was just the man's keys as the place was very crowded. I had no idea that the man was erect as he was rubbing himself on my buttocks. My mother had told me not to continue with the report because she did not want me to have a permanent record of the incident. At this point my mother had no idea about the molestation when I was eight years old. At the time, this experience made me feel like I was in trouble; like it was all my fault and I felt worthless. I slowly fell into depression because my innocence, my femininity, were stolen from me. I was robbed of myself. It wasn't easy for me. My mental health declined and I had surrendered to depression. From that point on I continuously fell victim to sexual assault - it feels as though these men know who their victims are. Although society is becoming more and more aware and disapproving of sexual assault, it is very real and very painful. It scars you for life. The truth is, it is a painful process, you will cry sometimes, you will wish you had lost your virginity just like everyone else did. But some girls who had a choice still regret it. I think women need to understand that they are stronger than that, they are powerful, that our bodies and sexuality are our power. We should never surrender our power to anyone. Even after being violated, don't think "Now my life is over." It's not over! What helped me gain my power was the power to say No! The power to choose my boyfriends wisely. The power to choose who I want to share my body with. I hope that one day my son will grow up in a world where assaulters are thrown into prison and the victims have a humane trial and get the closure they need to move on. If I could give advice to any young woman it would be: You are beautiful! You are pure! You are feminine! You control your destiny! You have control over yourself! Don't let anyone gain power over you! You have the power to love yourself! You are in control of your life and your happiness. And one day you WILL meet someone very special who will see you as a strong woman!
What's going to happen when the whole school knows? I'm going to be the new slut in school.10/17/2019
This might seem crazy but I'm pretty sure my life's is going to get much worse. There was a boy in my class, we were friends. Then he started saying "Can touch your thighs". I being the dumb ass that I am said yes after a while of saying no. I think about a couple days later he asked me for nudes. At first I said no. Then he started to get annoying. I said yes at the end. I feel so stupid. Three or five days later, the whole class knew. I remember feeling so stupid and worthless. I wanted to kill myself. People didn't talk to me. I was happy I got braces, because it gave me an excuse to not be at school. Saturday, Sunday, Monday I was thinking of suicide. Tuesday was no school. I got 12 different pills, a cup filled with water, and drank it. I was praying I was gonna be dead. I swear I wished I could be dead. I didn't really have friends. I ended up getting real friends. Guys. All the girls in my class are bitchy, fake ass people. Apparently, I thought too soon that everything was over. Some people were finding out very slowly. Today, I guess my guy best friend knows everything. He probably thinks I'm a slut. These other 3 people were asking me who I liked. I already know what to expect. They fucking know. They know and I have a feeling that they're gonna tell everyone. I'm fucking pissed, depressed, emotional. Suicidal. Hell, my best friend is ignoring me. What happened to best friends till we die? Apparently she has new friends. A new life. What's gonna happen. Today at gym one of my guy friends told me someone on his football team said, "I heard a girl in your class sent nudes, I've seen her and I don't have the nudes. I need them in my phone." I'm pretty sure as hell everyone at school is going to know. What's going to happen when the whole school knows? I'm going to be the new slut in school. I'm practically worthless right now. I got my phone taken away. What am I supposed to do now? Just wait for it to get worse. A new kid is coming to my class next Tuesday. I already know the FUCKING BOY IS GONNA TELL HIM/HER. I want to fucking destroy him. But I can't. I don't even know what to do. I pray and hope everything gets better. I'm sorry if this is long but I needed to tell someone about this whole shitty situation and not be ashamed of myself. - Xenia Note to the author: I don't have your contact information, so please reach out to a parent or teacher for help immediately. You are NOT alone, and this is NOT your fault. You can overcome it, just like the women who have shared their stories here before you. Please call 1-800-273-8255. I am always here to talk, as well. Love, Emily.
It took me a long time to accept that I was being bullied at all. I didn't want to think about it.10/17/2019
It all started when I was in Year 8. My class was on the bus coming back from a field trip to a police academy. I went to go take a seat with my friend at the time when one of the boys called out my name and said, "Hey! Why don't you come sit on my lap?!" I didn't reply, I just blushed and sat down with my friend. I was actually a very shy person back in high school. I only really talked to my friends. I was loud in class, but that was only because I was used to everyone in that class - I felt comfortable with them all. This boy was not from my class. They all laughed about it and I felt like crying, I had never felt so uncomfortable in my life. I thought it had ended until the boy ended up moving into my class in Year 9. On the first day back, he had started to harass me and make sexual remarks. I left school that day crying and just made out to my mum that I was sick. I ended up having three weeks off before coming back due to my grandfather dying and family problems with my dad. Once again first day back, I was getting harassed. My friends didn't even bother to help me even though they all saw and heard what he would say to me. I wanted to die. I had thought of all the ways to kill myself and looking back at it now, I'm glad I didn't. I just had felt so alone! I'd come home, go straight to my room and just cry. I wouldn't physically hurt myself or anything like that because I had already seen enough of that at home. My father was the reason why I wouldn't self-harm since he did himself, and I refused to be anything like him. It just got worse and worse until one day one of the boy's friends came over to me and said, "(Name of boy) wants your vagina." I once again went home early and when I saw my mum I broke down into tears and told her everything about the bullying. I remember my mum getting so angry and she went and immediately called up the school and started yelling at them. She threatened to sue the school if they didn't do anything about the harassment. The boy didn't show up for a few days and I later found out that he had been suspended. I was so let down that he had only been suspended! I didn't feel safe at school at all! That was a part of the reason why I had started to skip school and just wouldn't show up. I didn't want to be there in the same room as him. He ended up leaving me alone, obviously feeling scared of the prospect of being sued. It actually took me along time to accept the fact that I was being sexually bullied. In fact it took me a long time to accept that I was being bullied at all. I didn't want to think about it. But now I have chosen to share my story and this is the first time I have talked about it in years. I still cringe today when I hear that asshole's name.
I finally came out and told my mom. She asked why I waited all this time if it happened in late October. I told her I was scared. The next day we tried to press charges, but the police officer practically laughed in my face because I waited so long.
When I was 13 years old, I agreed to go out with a pretty popular boy at school. He seemed like, at the time, the most perfect boy ever, so I felt like I was "forever in debt" almost to him. About 2-3 months into the relationship (so about March or April of 2011) he started to become more and more controlling and started resorting to violence, which I kept telling myself many of the famous excuses, because I didn't want to believe he was doing this: "It was a one time thing..." or later one "I made him angry, so I deserved it.." and many others. By September, I began hearing rumors about him going after other girls (at this point we were no longer in the same school. I was in middle school, 8th grade, and he had moved to the high school, 9th grade) and trying to make sexual advances towards them. He then also began making the same advances towards me, but I blew it off. I was 13, he had just turned 15. I didn't know what that was all about, I believed sex was just kissing and stuff for people who were married, like I was tough being raised Catholic. He seemed to have calmed down for a couple of weeks, no more hitting, no more talking bad about me, and no more "dirty talk". He asked me if I wanted to go to the Homecoming game and dance. Well, of course I said yes. Homecoming and football in general is really big in Texas. Well, when the day of the game rolled around I went over to his house and he had his grandmother help pin a mum his mom made to my shirt. I didn't think anything bad would happen ever again. But when we got to the game, we sat my aunt on the left, me in the middle and him to my right. He started touching me in ways I knew weren't okay, but every time I tried to pull away, he'd tighten his grip on my wrist. After what felt like forever, my aunt said her son was getting tired and cold, so she was going to take us home. I had never felt so relieved, but I never told anyone. I knew that with how I ranked on the social- scale of the Texas City middle school/high school, 1) no one would believe me, and 2) he'd turn it around to make me look like a slut. So, I did the next best thing (well, what I thought was the next best thing). I tried to fake being sick to get out of the dance, but my mom told me, "Come on, Liz. I can tell he really likes you and would be heart broken if you didn't go." So reluctantly, I went. When we got there he immediately found his group of friends and started making sexual comments about them and me. "Wow your girlfriend's so pretty. You're lucky to have her," one said. He laughed and said, "Damn right I am. Just look at her tits!" (I immediately crossed my arms in an attempt to hide them, because I was extremely self-conscious about them, since I was 13 and a 36D.) Long story short, after attempting to make a move on some other girls, he suggested we leave and walk around the area for a bit. Of course, me not wanting any trouble, agreed to go along. So we sneak out the back door, and start walking along the side of the building, towards the front. He suddenly stopped and forced me against the wall, and started running his hands up my shirt. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't. I started to scream because I was scared, I didn't know what was happening, only that I was terrified, and he bit me. Hard. And covered my mouth and very forcefully whispered, "Shut up." And then he raped me... It happened pretty quick, he didn't want to get caught. And when he decided he was done, he told me to fix my skirt, and he pulled me up. He tightened his grip on my wrist and told me to stop crying like a baby. I wiped my face on my shirt and he walked us to his grandmother's car. His GRANDMOTHER'S car. And when she asked how it went, he said "It went great. It really was the perfect night." I started feeling sick all the time, faking sick to get out of school, and just doing everything to avoid people. One day about 2-3 weeks later, my parents had a meeting with the local pastor, and he found out I'd been "sick" and decided to pay me a visit. I opened the door and told him my parents weren't home, that I would be ok and he couldn't stay. I tried to close the door but of course, me being the naive "kid" I was, when he said wait, I opened it again, and let him in. He played it real cool, acting genuinely concerned, but then he flipped and attacked again. When he finished, he said, "Oh, by the way, my mom doesn't want me seeing you anymore. So, this is goodbye." That was the day I started cutting, not to die at first. I ended up in Deveruex, the local inpatient facility for teens who are violent, suicidal, cutting or off their psych meds. I asked hypothetical questions about rape and rapists, but no one caught on, nor did I say anything. I still loved him, and I thought he still loved me, and just didn't want his mom to be mad. I was put in Deveruex in early November 2011, but I was out before my birthday on the 14th. I expected him to call, or message me or something, but I got nothing. I went into Deveruex two more times between December 2011 and February 2012. February 4th or so I finally came out and told my mom. She asked why I waited all this time if it happened in late October. I told her I was scared. The next day we tried to press charges, but the police officer practically laughed in my face because I waited so long, but the reaction from school was a lot worse. I had to drop to home school for the rest of 8th grade. I attempted public school again the next year, but after 2 1/2 months of verbal, mental and physical abuse by fellow students, I eventually went to homebound (teacher came to me), then the principal said "I can't keep you on homebound, and I can't do anything about the abuse. Come back or drop out." So I went back to home school. Then I went to the Connections Academy (online school; 10th), now I'm in K-12's online school (11th grade, yay!) and I'm doing so much better. I FINALLY found a guy worth something (not in it for anything sexual) and we've been together 1 year, 2 years on July 10th, I am doing everything I possibly can do as a 17 year old to educate girls about the dangers of controlling relationships and sexual abuse. I hope maybe someone (or many someones!) will hear my story, and it will help them. Your site and project give me hope <3 - Elizabeth Luckily I had my one friend to get me through it. Truth is, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her.10/15/2019
I remember being a happy little kid. I was an only child and spoiled rotten. There weren't any kids around so it got really lonely. My only friends at the time were animals. I remember the first day of school was so exciting because I thought of all the friends I'd make. I was really nice and I put on my best smile. But I guess going to a school where 99% of the school is white and you're mixed it's a bad thing. I didn't really know what I did to deserve being made fun of and picked on. I always blamed myself, like it was something I'd done. They would call me 'ugly' and 'fat' and after a while I believed it. Through my whole elementary years I was picked on, even when we moved. When my sister was born my mom neglected us, then abandoned us. We moved to another state but at the age of seven I had already tried suicide a couple of times. I also started to overeat with the depression I was in. In 6th grade I made my first friend and in 7th grade I made another. In 8th grade I got my first boyfriend and thought I was in love. I couldn't believe it because I was fat and in the band, and he was cute and on the football team. I thought I was in love but I was blind. He was a jerk and he cheated on me multiple times. I cried many times because of him. What makes it worse is that he started messing around with my 6th grade friend, who was a very fake friend. I almost committed suicide. Luckily I had my one friend to get me through it. Truth is, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her. Now in my 10th grade year of high school, I am grateful for her because if it wasn't for her I wouldn't have seen how beautiful life is. What I learned is to not listen to what they say. Whether it's family, kids at school, relationships, friendships, or yourself, don't listen. Fuck them and live your own life. Because I listened and believed it, I now have a weight problem and depression. Don't be like me, block them out and do you.
I live in a small town. I am currently 14. My story started in fourth grade when a girl from a big city moved here. The boy she had a crush on liked me so she told everyone I was a slut. All my childhood friends believed her and joined in on calling me a slut. This killed me inside. In sixth grade when everything got worse, I told my mom about what was going on. We put a stop to it but apparently that didn't last. When I went into seventh grade everything got worse because we don't have a middle school - we get thrown right in with the high schoolers. So when I started dating a guy a grade above me, all hell broke loose. The girl who started the rumours ganged up with my boyfriend's ex who was two years older than me. They started some of the worst rumours I've heard about me. Those rumours sent me into a deep, deep depression. I told my mom about everything and all she did was tell me she raised me to be stronger. It was terrible. I never got any help so my cry for help was telling someone I wanted to kill myself. My parents found out and were devastated. I was on suicide watch for a year. That is the year I figured out my life wasn't really just my life. My life is also my parents, my friends, and everyone else. So here I am a year later with the same rumours getting spread around about me but I don't let it get to me. I hope eventually they'll go away but at this point I'm more worried about making sure I don't fall down into a depression again and so far I've been doing fine. So there's my story.
In the 4th grade, this girl said to someone that I was "a lesbian and tried to rape her."10/15/2019
"Slut": a four letter word with such meaning. A four letter word that has made people commit suicide. A four letter word used as a label for girls with an open sexual life, or just a girl who nodded at a boy who wore something "sexual" once. I'm Emma, and this is my story. It started in kindergarten. One of the older boys, by at least 7 years, molested me. At first, I didn't know what was going on, but then, it hurt. This went on till 2nd grade. He moved away. In the second grade, I was always the chubby kid. I was the "teacher's pet". One day a 5th grader pushed me down and called me fat and worthless. I started cutting, and it just made things worse. In the 4th grade, this girl said to someone that I was "a lesbian and tried to rape her." I mean, seriously?! I got so much hate after that. I tried to commit suicide. But after I failed, things got much better. I changed schools, got new friends, and even a boyfriend! I want to let you know that it does get better! Please do not kill yourself. You are beautiful! - Emma
Sometimes the guys would smack my butt or just stare at me with a sick smile on their face.10/15/2019
When I was in 8th grade, this girl who I'm calling M, always talked about me behind my back for no reason which I didn't like. I've never done anything to her, to make her hate me, so why did she bully me? In the summer guys always would stare at my body and make sexual comments towards me, which made me feel sick. My body developed at a young age so I had the figure of a petite young adult. Sometimes the guys would smack my butt or just stare at me with a sick smile on their face. Well back to the subject, when I got into high school I was quiet and stayed to myself. But everything changed when I met my now ex-boyfriend who I'm calling A. When I was with him everything was great, but when we had sex and one of his friends found out everyone called me a "Slut" or a "Thot" which made me sick to my stomach. Soon I wanted to kill myself but I couldn't do it. I knew that if I even tried I would feel sick, so instead of cutting I skipped meals a few times a week. I'm still called by them names but I don't care anymore. As long as you know someone loves you then don't let the world break you down. It kinda makes me angry but it doesn't matter. Yes I've cried and told myself that I was fat and that no one would love me but I knew it wasn't true. So to all the people out there just love and trust in yourself cause no one can break you down unless you let them. - Markeshia
I thought this year would be better, but it's worse. I hardly knew anyone at Secondary school. At first. I would hang out with Rowan usually, since I met her outside of school and we both didn't know many people. Then slowly as the weeks passed, I made lots of friends, true and fake, and introduced them to Rowan. Months later, our roles have reversed. Then the cyber bullying started. Around this point, I lost most of my girl mates, because they thought I was attention-seeking, so I made a lot of guy friends. Girls 2 years older than me would tell me I was attention-seeking, post stuff about me on Facebook, get their friends involved too, and as they were popular and older, I couldn't do anything. Then people I didn't even know told me to go die and that my parents didn't love me, I was fat, ugly, unloved, poor, a slag, a bitch, a hoe, etc. etc. Then my parents found out and reported them to the police, they left me alone afterwards. I started self harming in November because I was different, and because I felt I was being used and that I was a slag. Because in the previous summer holidays, my friends persuaded me into flashing my boobs on camera to strangers on a website. I felt like I a slut. Then this year, after multiple short relationships with guys I didn't like in that way, I found a guy (Robb) who made me smile, who made me love myself, but it sorrowfully ended. After our on and off relationships, whilst I fancied/dated him, I had a thing for several of his mates. Some of them were dating my best mates. I felt like I was a fake friend and that I was a slut too. Robb told me he loved me and tried persuading me to send him nude pictures of myself and to have sex with him. Because I thought it was love, I said yes. But I didn't send him pictures since I was on my ancient laptop. We had planned to have sex on a camping trip with our two friends who were dating (Declan and Rowan). But since he called me a hoe and fell out with me, sex never happened either. And he obviously told all his friends about our little conversation. Because I had developed faster than most of my mates I was already a C cup, nearly a D cup, whilst most of my friends were B or A. So I obviously became an object of sexual interest to many guys, including older guys. Year 9 guys would message me saying that I had a nice pair, etc. Then another ex, Joseph, asked me for pictures and sex, persuading (but failing) me with, "I'll be a good shag" & "it'll just be two best friends losing their virginity to each other". Then came the sexual touching. He would run up to me and squeeze my boobs against my will or spank me without my permission, in front of his friends of course, or touch me under the table in our lessons together. My next boyfriend, Ben, asked for a camping trip, exactly what Robb said, and I knew he wanted to coerce me into f*cking him. He told all of his mates I would do things with him and I had already done things with him, but a) I didn't plan on doing things with him & b) I hadn't done ANYTHING with him. I feel as if thanks to Robb, I won't find another guy who likes me for me, not for my boobs or for sex. Then yesterday this 14 year old guy from my older friend's primary school added me on Snapchat. He thinks I'm 14 when I'm actually 12. He is constantly asking for pictures. I have never met him in my entire life. My other friend (Ann) has told me people will think I'm a slag and I know most of my friends think it too, but they're just too nice to say so. Ever since Robb, I have been having flings with guys, leading them on, especially his mates or guys he didn't like me hanging out with, because he hurt me and despite that, I irrationally miss him. When I walk in the street, constantly guys look at my cleavage, even grown men. And my parents even think I'm a slut, my mom thinks I use Snapchat to send nudes, and she thinks my cleavage is noticeable because I made It noticeable. I'm starting to question my sexuality, I think I might be bisexual, but my parents are god-fearing people and I hear them talking about homosexuals behind their backs and it isn't nice what their saying and even my friends tell me stuff that is homophobic but they say they don't mind gays. I keep thinking about suicide and self harm. I just want it all to end, the constant judgement, ridicule, slut shaming, etc. I'm also worried about my weight a lot, I've been starving and binging & purging ever since May. For 4-5 months almost, I haven't had proper sleep, I either wake up within a few hours or sleep at 8am. Also school is about to start within a week and I know Robb has set me up as an object of ridicule and slut shaming within his social circles. I'm scared the bullying will return again, just because I had a couple of sexual hollow conversations/promises and because of my multiple short relationships where I just lead the guys on. I feel as I'm a slut because of me leading guys on, and because of the sex/picture chats. I'm sick of myself. I don't know what caused all of the sexual conversations and perversions, but I could've stopped it, I could've told someone, but I was too scared that I would get told "you wanted it" "slut!" "Your clothing was provocative" comments. It's all my fault my life is like this. Sooner or later I'll lose all my friends again, and I will give in to their coercing and persuasion. I'm only 12, yet I feel so alone. -Carol Ann Lynn Note to the author: Since you submitted this account anonymously, I don't have your contact information. Please reach out to a parent or teacher for help immediately. You are NOT alone, and this is NOT your fault. You can overcome it, just like the women who have shared their stories here before you. Judging from your language, I am guessing you're in the UK. Please visit www.samaritans.org and check out the resources available to you. I am always here to talk, as well. Love, Emily
I fancied this guy despite the fact I hardly knew him (let's call him Lee). Okay, so me and Lee dated 3 times within a month. Lee was a charming guy who was decent enough looking. A month after we first went out, he started taking a sexual interest in me, but we weren't together at this point. I thought we loved each other, but months later I notice it was an unrequited love. Lee started asking me for sex and nudes, and he told a lot of his mates. I told my other guy friend (let's call him Jon). I had previously dated Jon twice before Lee. Jon then started taking an interest in me. We dated for a short while and I dumped him. A month later, me and Lee had fallen out. Whilst I was walking alone, Jon greeted me with a hug. He then squeezed my breast, I was disgusted by his behaviour. So I walked off and told him to f*ck off. He didn't. He then ran up behind me and did it again. I repeated my words and started walking faster, he then hit my arse. He did this in front of his friends. A couple days after the incident, he then asked me for sex and pictures. He said, "It'll just be two best friends losing their virginity to each other" - we're both 12. He also said "I'll be a good shag". I then dated another guy (he shall be called Joe). Joe was in the year above me. 2 hours into the relationship, he asked me for sex. I dumped him. At the minute, I am dating one of Lee's best mates (let's call him Declan). I hardly talked to Declan before we got together, unless I was dating Lee. Declan is now asking for sex. My parents found my messages with Lee and they are threatening to send me back to my home country. I really don't want to move, and it isn't my fault these guys took an interest in me. But the boys will say it was all my fault; my clothing provoked them, I've got a nice 'pair', I mentioned sex. I told my closest friend (say she's called Rosie). Rosie said that guys would start calling me a slag/slut/whore/hoe/etc. and maybe girls as well because of my actions. I used to self harm whenever stuff like this happened, and I've been clean for 31 days, but it all seems worthless. I don't know what to do, and I feel as if I've disappointed my parents and that I'm just a low life slut. Sometimes I think it's my fault, because I didn't stop Lee from talking about sex, I didn't stop Jon from touching me under the table during lessons and that started the things with Declan and Joe. Note to the author: Since you submitted this account anonymously, I don't have your contact information. Please reach out to a parent or teacher for help immediately, regarding your concerns about self-harm. I am always here to talk, as well. Love, Emily
Ever since I was young I have been sexually abused by my own cousin. It started years ago when I was merely 10 years old and he was 15. The abuse continued up until my high school years. No one knows about this and I am too ashamed to tell anyone that I trust. I once made the mistake of telling a boyfriend of mine and not long after he found out, he cheated on me. His only excuse was that it was my fault because I was a whore. He was nice enough not to tell everyone at school. However at home I was constantly reminded of what he (my cousin) did to me and him constantly telling me that I "wanted it." I eventually started believing it and hated myself for it. Everyday I felt as if I was going insane since that little voice inside my head would call me a whore and a bitch and I had no one to turn to because I was afraid. So instead I bottled everything up and I began to self harm. Years have passed, I got help and I am 4 years clean and he no longer abuses me but what he did is something that I will have to live with for the rest of my life.
I was "blessed" with an hour glass figure: big breasts, tiny waist, big hips. This figure started developing when I was very young and by the time I reached seventh grade, I was a C cup. I was 12 years old and men in their 20s were hitting on me because they couldn't see the child's face past the woman's body.
It was seventh grade when the rumours started. A few of the significant ones I remember are of me apparently having a video of me stripping on Youtube, that I got naked on webcam for anyone and strangers, that I wasn't a virgin, and that I stuffed my bra. I had never even kissed a boy. The middle school guidance counselor didn't help either. She was constantly harassing me about my inappropriate clothing. I wore the same clothes as everyone else, from the same stores, but somehow they were inappropriate because I had a form for them to fit. I was constantly sent home, called in to the office, and forced to wear clothes from the lost and found. It was humiliating. When I asked why I got in trouble when other girls wore the exact same shirt, I was told that I just didn't have the body for it. It seemed that the school wouldn't be happy unless I dressed like a boy. It was eighth grade when things got way worse. During the summer, I had my first boyfriend but he was from a different town (my grandparents lived there and I had spent the summer with him). Everyone either thought that I made him up or that I was doing horrible immoral things with him. Since being a "slut" wasn't the only thing I was bullied for, people found it hard to believe I could get a boyfriend. The second favourite insult of my tormentors was "fat," since they were too young to notice the waist in between the hips and breasts. Someone found my Yahoo! answers account where I had gone to ask questions about my body, and they twisted things around and told everyone that my vagina smelled like cheese. For the rest of the year, people constantly yelled "cheesy odour" at me. On New Years (still grade 8), my older friend took me to a party. There was drinking involved. One of the guys there took an interest in me and we ended up having sex. I had only ever kissed a boy before so I didn't understand what was happening until about halfway through. The rest of the time I remember sitting there wishing it would be over but not wanting to be rude. My friend went back to school after the break and told the entire high school what had happened. After that, I would have random girls on the street or the bus or the mall yell at me, call me a whore, accuse me of having STDs, etc. I got another boyfriend in March of grade 8. My "best friend" made up countless rumours that were absurd, but everyone believed anyways. She said that she had came over and there were used condoms all over my room, that I had sex with my boyfriend in my front yard, and other things to that effect. The summer before high school, my older friend got mad at me and turned everyone in the high school against me. I also got black out drunk at a party and when I came to, I was in some guy's backseat bent over puking out the door and he was inside me. After that, I didn't believe that I had the right to say no. I'm not going to lie, there have been countless others and to this day, I'm not sure how many of them would even be considered consensual. They would beg, and I would give in. The times I did say no, they told everyone we had sex anyways. I felt like I owed it to them, to anyone who wanted it. I couldn't say no. Ninth grade started. My older friend kept trying to fight me. There were countless rumours of STDs, pregnancies, countless sexual partners, and anything that also degraded me (bestiality, threesomes, bondage, cheating). I had friends but they all talked about me behind my back. I think my "friends" were responsible for more rumours than anyone else. One girl kept trying to fight me over rumours. She would chase me through the mall, or come punch me, or harass and accuse me of things. People yelled things at me, harassed me online, threatened me. At one party, two girls tried to beat me up and push me in the bonfire. At another, I fell asleep and woke up to people kicking me, pissing on me, and T-bagging me. No one had stood up for me. There was an older guy (21) who came to the school and fell for me. When I rejected him, he came to the school with a knife, threatening to kill me. The police were called. After that, things got worse. I was a slut and a narc and I was in danger, so we moved to another town. I went to this school for a year. I got a boyfriend and things were mostly fine. There were a couple rumours: some girls said they saw me giving him head in the parking lot. But for the most part, no one took them seriously. It was always there in the background but it was easy to ignore until my boyfriend and I broke up. Things got bad again, people were threatening me, so I ran again. I actually had to finish the last couple months of my schooling from home because it wasn't safe for me at school. I started a new school for grade 11. This time no one even tried to get to know me. My first couple weeks were filled with random girls accusing me of trying to steal their boyfriends and trying to fight me. Things calmed down and I was invisible. I literally did not have one single friend. I started dating a boy who was also new and things got bad again. People were yelling names at me, making up rumours, saying I gave my boyfriend a hand job in health class. They carved "health class hand job" onto the doors of the gym, screamed it when I walked past, whenever they saw me in town. It was basically like that all of grade 11 and 12, except this time, I didn't even have fake friends. I was completely isolated. No one had ever even bothered to talk to me unless it was to bully me. The boy I dated ended up being a jerk and contributed to a lot of it. He cheated on me all the time, but somehow I was the whore. It was just unbearable. It was everywhere I went and I had no one to talk to. I was completely alone. I broke two months before I graduated and tried to kill myself. I took a lot of pills and it made me sleep for days and really sick but I lived. After that I realized that I couldn't kill myself because all of those assholes would be the same ones posting on Facebook about how it's such a tragedy and they don't know what went wrong. I couldn't give them that satisfaction. I graduated high school and thought it was over, but it has followed me. University is filled with my bullies from every school I attended, I can't go to the bar without being harassed, people bully me online, whenever they see me in public. I can't escape it. I'm 20 years old and people are constantly messaging my boyfriend to tell him how bad of a person I am. That's the worst of it. Everybody thinks that I'm the bad person. Countless people bullied me, even more stood by and let it happen. These same people go on Facebook crusades about how wrong bullying is, but no one cared when it happened to me. But I'm the bad person. Because I'm a slut. Because people turned me into a self-fulfilling prophecy, and made me believe that I wasn't worth anything more, that I owed men sex, that I didn't have the right to say no because sluts don't say no. Because I developed curves a little bit too early. I don't know how to escape this. I can't make friends. I can't get a boyfriend. As soon as people hear I met someone, they flock to tell this person why they need to avoid me. And it's really, really hard to have absolutely no one. I'm ashamed of my body, I'm ashamed of my past, of my number, and I don't think anyone will ever accept me for it. I'm 20 years old and still being judged by rumours people made up when I was 14. The truth? Almost every guy I have had sex with has coerced me into it when I had originally refused. Some of those guys didn't bother coercing me and took what they wanted regardless of what I said. I have been in 3 serious relationships. I have never cheated. I dated my high school boyfriend for almost 3 years, and my last boyfriend for 7 months. I have not had sex in 6 months. I have probably had sex with between 60 and 70 people. When I was in primary school I was going through a very hard time. I would get verbally abused to my face, being called a slut, bitch, and I even got told to go and kill myself. I cried myself to sleep every night. I even faked I was sick so I could stay home, but even at home I couldn't get away from it - I was also getting bullied online on the school website we had, where we could talk to each other or send comments. I hated it. Someone thought as a joke it would be funny if I was with a guy. We dated, but then he broke up with me cuz he couldn't handle everything going on. He told everyone, and I was the laughing stock of year 7. I went home sick that day. This year in grade 9, high school, I still get bullied. I get called a slut, bitch, even get pushed around so that I had a bruise on my right side. My parents still don't know. I've come out as bisexual to a few of my friends. They accept me and support me whereas others don't, and there are rumors going around the school. But I have a lovely girlfriend who tells me it will all be all right, but I've tried to commit suicide 4 times. It sucks that I've turned to cutting but I'm trying to stop, and to stop throwing up after every couple of meals. So what I've leant from bullying is it ruins society and little minds. That felt good to get of my chest :) - Olivia Celeste
I've been called a slut and a whore by practically everyone in my year just because some Regina George impersonator decided to spread some rumors about me. It all started because I gave my number to a really hot guy at the cinema. He said he thought I was hot and we texted back and forth for a while. One of my friends accidentally let it slip to this girl who hates me and she started a rumor that I was a giant whore even though I've never even been kissed. Eventually the guy stopped talking to me but the rumors still continued. People would write notes to me telling me how much they hated me and wanted me to die. It got so bad that one day while in class we were supposed to write notes to people in the class and tell them something good about them to help raise their self esteem. I got at least twenty notes which I assumed were harmless but they were anything but! The teacher had to read them aloud to the class and I could tell she felt bad about it. But nothing was done! I lost all my friends and no one bothered to talk to me. It wasn't until I finally found the courage to tell my guidance counselor about it that things started to change. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and for the first time in months I felt free. I'm still not Little Miss Popular, but now I have a few close friends that I can turn to if things start getting bad again. I'm glad I did something about it because frankly, I don't think I'd be alive right now if I hadn't. - Amy
I wrote something to a guy via Facebook that I believe might have been something a little naughty, but I'm not sure because I was drinking a lot back then. A girl that doesn't like me at all for sleeping with her boyfriend got ahold of this message and sent it all over the Internet and now I am getting dirty looks and even rude comments from people and laughing! It's making me sick! I have 2 kids that need me so suicide isn't really an option. I'm starting to feel depressed, anxious and paranoid. Nobody deserves this!! I am a good person. I just made bad mistakes when I drank.
When I was in sixth grade, I went through some serious bullying. I wanted to be liked a lot. I got with a guy and he spread it everywhere. I've moved schools three times since then and it came back to bite me. All over my Instagram one of his friends commented on my photos, calling me a slut. Saying I was fat. It really hurt. This year I tried slitting my wrists. It did nothing - it only happened a few times and it ended 93 days ago. I'm still being bullied over it and I lose friends everyday. It has broken me and I'm scared to stand up for myself.
I guess you could call me the 8th grade slut. I've had two boyfriends, and the farthest I've made it is second base. Everyone had already begun calling me a slut before because my boyfriend was the most unpopular person in our class, so that made me desperate in their eyes. Now that I have another boyfriend, things have gotten worse. When I was sitting at lunch, my "friends" started talking about me. They started saying things like: "Oh my gosh, Grayson is going to lose her virginity before she turns 18!" "I bet you that she'll lose it before she gets her drivers license." And then, the one that has been stuck in my mind since it happened. "It doesn't matter, you'll be married when you're 18 anyways." I cried for hours when I found out what they actually thought of me. This was probably the point in my life that my cutting was the worst. I didn't know how to stand up for myself, and I couldn't. I have social anxiety and I was so shocked they'd said all that, I couldn't respond. Now, months later, I confronted them about what happened, and they have the audacity to claim I made it up. They make it known they don't like me after I finally stood up for myself. And everyone acts like I'm crazy. It makes me sick. - Grayson Carter
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