When I was in second grade I couldn’t read. No matter how much I tried to get help, my teachers wouldn’t give it to me. They thought I was being a rebel, pretending I couldn’t read. I was often sent to the corner of the room where I sat and wept while the other children read happily.
My peers ignored me. Every day, I went around the playground asking them to play, and they said no. I became discouraged and sat by myself. Every night I came home crying to my mother. “Why don’t they like me?” I asked her. She had a loss for words as a mother who couldn’t protect her child.
Years went by and my discouragement grew stronger, and I had a new struggle: math.
My peers still laughed at me and called me names, but soon I realized it wasn’t because I wasn’t good at math. It was because I was the skinniest girl in my class.
The kids murmured jokes to each other, my peers’ parents would talk about my so-called eating disorder. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. But later I learned there was nothing wrong, that I only had a faster metabolism than my peers.
The bullies knew it hurt me. They saw the pain in my eyes, and it made them do it even more. No one ever stopped them and the bystanders kept quiet as they knew they would be the next target. I didn’t blame them for that. I knew that no one should have ever felt the pain I felt. It was like knives being slowly jabbed into my heart. But I do wish they would have stood up for me, told the other kids they are only jealous of me. I could only wonder what the outcome would have been.
I remember taking trips to the guidance and principal's office just about every day. I told them about the horrible things that were said about me. They called me anorexic, and bulimic, and said I had an eating disorder. I wanted the principal to make me feel better, make the other kids realize that it was wrong and hurtful. But nothing was done. The principal thought I was lying about the name calling, so I spent my middle school years mostly alone. I felt discouraged.
High school came and I realized I wasn’t alone. My school is very large, and soon I found a group of friends who struggled with bullying as well. We shared our stories with each other and I started to feel better about myself. Then, one day, I was walking through the halls and an old bully called me anorexic. I laughed in his face and walked away. I was never picked on again. Standing up to him made him realize I didn’t let the comment bother me. He knew I had confidence in myself.
Many of my friends have attempted suicide and done self-harm. But I have never attempted suicide, and I owe it all to my best friend: music. Whenever I was down, I would put my headphones on and listen to my favorite songs. It could be an upbeat country song, or a heavy metal song, but they all send a message and set the mood. Music has a special place in my heart.
Many people have gone through similar things as I have, whether it be bullying or not. There are people to talk to even if you feel like there isn’t.  And there are artists who are great inspirations. The band Of Mice & men is my favorite. The hardest part is getting over the past and realizing there are other people who have experienced the same things and have gotten through them. With hope--and inspiration from others--you can get through anything.