Bullying to make me feel inferior
11 years old, running away from the taunts that were thrown at me by my classmates in an attempt to make me feel inferior, I ran into the girls bathroom and leaned against a stall as I made a frantic effort to calm my racing heart and hold back the building tears. As the words of my tormentors rang in my ears, efforts to hold them back went in vain as they spilled through my eyes, splattering the stone cold floor.
I gazed at my tear streaked face in the mirror, my breathing now labored, sobs racking my body, and contemplated the words that had been reiterated to me over the past few years( I'll spare you the gory details); the words that had led to me gaining anxiety, losing weight and carrying around a crushing sense of depression, that had me questioning my self worth, my color, my personality and even my existence. Were they right?
That 11 year old was so accustomed to hearing such demeaning words- words that she had done absolutely nothing to deserve- that she had started to believe them and question herself; thinking that she was indeed wrong when in fact, she couldn't be more right.
Every day was a struggle for her, fighting through the bullying, her growing insecurities, her confidence and hopes that threatened to be shattered every day. She concealed her misery with a bright smile, a facade; but internally, she was weeping, begging for help, for someone to confide in. She felt like an outcast, being ridiculed for her hair, color, large eyebrows and being labelled 'different'.
You know that one child who gets over her distressing conditions after an intense montage of Rocky-like determination that ends with a triumphant victory ?
Unfortunately this isn't about her. My story took a little more time to get a happy ending.
The mere prospect of me even opening my mouth in school, whether it was to answer a question or talk to someone, caused beads of perspiration to form on my forehead and my hands to shake violently. I feared even the thought of having to open my mouth. ( completely opposite to what I am now)
For years, I yearned to be accepted, included, befriended, and be respected for my uniqueness, rather than judged for my color or physical features. Was that too much to expect?
I can now answer that and say the answer is no.
Documentaries about Misty Copeland and Amelia Earheart inspired the 13 year old me to get up and fight. After years of struggling, I was able to triumph over depression, self doubt, irrational insecurities and gain the confidence to stand up for myself and everyone around me.
I had finally come a long way from a girl who was terrified of opening her mouth, to someone who would raise her voice for the underestimated, overlooked and excluded; Who would advocate for victims of bullying and inspire them to fight.
My passion, dedication and tenacity led me to become a fierce leader, someone who would move heaven and hell to follow her dreams and fight for what she believed in, break free of the barriers of stereotypes and society and go against the whole world itself if it came down to it. ( One instance of that is applying to US colleges)
I embraced my uniqueness and began to love myself and everything I stood for. I refuse to let the words and opinions of the people around define me. It is because I am unique that I am an accomplished pianist and composer; It is because I am unique that I have a black belt in Karate; It is because I am unique that I have dedicated more than 400 hours of my time to my society.
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