I didn't understand why the adults in charge couldn't see what was happening.

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.