Not Always Happy

As I was in middle school, I was a real undemanding person to pick on. I grew up in New York in an apartment with my parents & three siblings. Two brothers and one sister. In September 2019, I went to Middle School for the first time entering the sixth grade.

I’ve always had scopophobia, an immoderate fear of people. I hated going to public. I always feel the eyes of people just looking at me, judging me. In school, I’d continuously keep a fast-walking pace with my head down going to my classes because I always felt that people in the hallways judged. I always sense that people judge me either the way I looked, how my hair looked, my body type or just me in general.

Before I started third grade in 2015, I was extremely skinny. It looked like I had some type of aliment. My mom is a RN. She works in a hospital, so she knew something wasn’t right with me. My family, teachers and my mom’s work colleagues were praying just for my weight gain. My mom would everyday encourage me to eat junk. Mc Donalds, Pizza, Ice Cream. Basically, what every child likes to eat on an everyday basis.

Just right when I started third grade in 2016, I gained fifty pounds. Sadly, my siblings continually made jokes about it. Every day I’d go to school, I’d get called names, get looked at constantly by my classmates, I’d get judged & bullied. And I was just 6. I’d run to my room everyday crying in my pillow. I’d cry as quiet as a nest of monasteries because I shared a room with my sister.

In the month of March of the third-grade school year, someone came up to me while I was at the very front seat of the bus. I rode bus 19 everyday home with the same people but never recognized his face. Just as I thought I was going to get named call, he said rapidly, “do you want to be friends?” I was astonished. Did someone ask me to be a friend? I thought it was all a joke but before I could ask of his name, he started introducing himself. We were friends for at least three months. We shared laughs and we had the same interests.

In May, I was walking home from my bus stop so happy because I knew I would see him every day. Just as soon as I got home, my parents came to give me the worst news of that year. We were moving which meant, I HAVE TO SWITCH BUSES. The apartment was empty, trucks were outside. I was just confused. We lived in our apartment for over eleven years and my parents thought it was time for a change.

I was in a lot of tears. I couldn’t stop crying because even though I was going to the same school, I couldn’t see my friend like I used to everyday. My last day on bus 19, I broke the news to my friend on the bus and gave him a big hug because I knew I won’t be having any type of contact.

In class that same day, my teacher got a phone call from the main office. “Christine you’re going on bus 26 for the rest of the year, not 19 starting today.” Once it was time for dismissal, the loudspeaker announced bus 26 can be dismissed. As I was walking in that bus, I was scared, nervous, my heart was beating fast. I knew no one on that bus. It was so awkward. I hate being stared and judged at because it always gives me anxiety. Are they looking at me? Are they judging me? My body?!

I couldn’t make no friend. Everyone was either listening to music, very loud, annoying music, on their phone or just talking to a friend. Even my older brother found friends in a snap. Walking home from the bus stop was just strange because a lot of our neighbors are from the school. As I was walking home, I hear two fifth graders whispering to each other about how I walk. I was born to walk with my feet in instead of out. Going to physical therapy for months didn’t do a thing. I told my brother that the boys were making fun of me, and my brother hit, slapped, demolished them with punches. I honestly didn’t think he could do all of that.

I got bullied in the third grade so much, but my brother wasn’t always there for a backup. To take it to two years later, I was going to fifth grade. I made two new friends and my brother moved up to the middle school. To think that all of this bullying was over, five kids in my new classroom literally hated my guts. I was in accelerated math in fifth grade and my reading was at a level X. I loved participating in class because I felt that I was just so intelligent. But apparently, 5 kids in my class thinks otherwise.

Once it’s time for recess these 5 girls start talking about everything. Everyday they’d call me a teacher’s pet, nerd, big. I act like its nothing at school and/or on the bus. But when I get home, I start to cry in my pillow because it’s not like I could call anyone to help. My only two friends that year had different classes. So, we only see each other in the hallways or choir.

Fast forward to eighth grade, I’d still get bullied specifically for how my skin is, my body, my hair and my clothing & how I walk. What’s different is I handle it a specific way. Do I tell administrators/teachers? Do I tell my family? Do I cry about it? Well no. I’m going to ninth grade now and I still get bullied because some people are immature.

Every day I get bullied in school, that’s just a motivation to work on myself more than usual. Till this day I stand with the quote “It’s never right to bully the innocent.”

If you are someone who...

has scopophobia, gets bullied, is insecure about themselves, scared of judgement, constantly gets judged of your looks and actions and/or have people in your life who doesn't treat you the way you deserve to be treated...

You’re not alone. You’re a very strong person and you can get through it. It’s never easy at all.

Reading my story you know that life will always come with good people and bad and that