With Pain, Comes Strength

Two; Clicks

In high school there were many different groups or clicks of people around the playground. I went to an all girls school so when one girl was annoyed and if an argument started then sometimes it would escalate quickly.

I remember sitting in music once, I did GCSE music so I was trying to write my piece of original music on the computer. I stopped the music going into my headphones and I thought the girls behind me were talking about my friends, and not in a nice way. Once I had stopped the music, it became apparent that they were making fun of my friends. “___ is a retard” one said “Yeah and Deanna’s friend ___ is just stupid”. Although these may not have been really bad names I always hated the injustice that was thrown upon the girls who had additional needs or who appeared different.

I turned around and said “Stop talking about my friends like that”. “But it’s true” one of them said. “Well at least they don’t draw their eyebrows on” I said to the one who had obviously shaved her natural eyebrows off and had drawn them in along with her other over the top make up. “This is fashion you know” she replied in a tone dripping in attitude. “Yeah one for sl*gs” I replied.

At the time I didn’t even really fully understand what that term meant but I knew it was insulting and rude. The girl screamed and stormed out of the classroom; but only to storm back in a few seconds later and slap me across the face before screaming again and heading out the classroom once more. I put my hand to my throbbing face and grabbed my things before crying and walking out of the music department and away from the laughter behind me.

When I reached the corridor I met a teacher from the science department. She saw the massive red hand print across my face and asked me what happened while taking me down to get an ice pack. I sat in the first aid room for a bit while I calmed down and wrote what had happened down on paper. The girl who hit me got isolated for a few days but nothing else.

I always hated the clicks around school. The almost hierarchy and judgement that happened as anyone would walk down the corridor. There were the ‘emos’ who would walk around with dyed black hair and heavy black makeup. Then there were the ‘popular’ girls; but there were a few groups of these, they all seemed to think wearing makeup 3 shades too dark or orange for them was cool. I never really wore makeup at school, maybe a little mascara or eyeliner but never any foundations. This was mainly due to not knowing how to apply it properly but also because I had bad acne and any foundation would make it sore and even worse than it already was.

I never considered myself popular, really I was the complete opposite and never had any stable friendships. This has shaded my view of what a friend or any relationship is like. I’m slowly learning the importance of forgiveness, to both myself and others.

I really believe that memories and events that happen as a child can mould them into who they are as an adult. I sometimes wonder what I would have been like now if I hadn't been bullied or had been in one of the clicks.

Today, I struggle with some tasks such as the emotions I'm left with after an argument. I find it hard to deal with shouting, abrupt tones and sarcasm. Sometimes this is because I don't understand why something has happened or escalated. But, other times I over-react to situations. This isn't something I can help, it's more like an automatic response.

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