They hoped I’d die of cancer, suicide or anorexia (not that I had anorexia, that was just another ‘joke’ about me being skinny.

Growing up I was bullied a lot, which is something only very few people know about. I rarely talk about it, for I’m a pretty private person when it comes down to stuff like that. I was teased for my appearance and the things I liked, for the sound of my voice and the shape of my body. Anonymous comments told me they hoped I’d die of cancer, suicide or anorexia (not that I had anorexia, that was just another ‘joke’ about me being skinny). ‘Nobody wants to fuck a skeleton’ and ‘you really aren’t all that pretty’ were just a few of the regular comments I got. I tried to remember that I was the bigger person, to not let that stuff get to me, but it did. And I wasn’t half as strong and unbothered as I always pretended to be. But I had to keep pretending, knowing they’d abuse any weak spot I’d reveal.

I can’t describe how stressful it was to always have to hide my pain and pretend I didn’t care that people I barely knew wished me nothing but the absolute worst. To hear rumours about myself that didn’t make any sense, to say the least. The obsessive hate I had to face is something that still hurts and confuses me till this day, for I simply don’t understand why.

I’m sharing this now because I don’t want this to be a “secret” anymore, something I should be ashamed of, which it has pretty much always felt like. I don’t want to appear perfect, or feel like I have to put up with that image of myself. I’m not perfect and neither is my life, but I am strong. Everyday I try to better myself and build the life I want to live. You can’t choose where you come from, or the things that happen to you, but you do have a huge say in what you do with them. It’s up to you to decide where you are going. And I am going somewhere great.