Then there was the Duran Duran song Girls on Film that was oh so cleverly turned into WHALES on Film by a group of boys who would serenade me in the halls.

Bullying with a Duran Duran song. In my head, these kids must be something speical. Lame.

I remember one time in elementary school, in PE (which I HATED). We played dodge ball. I usually threw the ball so weak that it hardly passed to the other side of the court. That one day, a kid who was well aware of my physical ability taunted me when I got the ball (which of course, was a thing I tried to avoid at all costs). I tried not to put too much attention to him, closed my eyes, took a deep breath and threw the ball. I suddenly heard laughter, and I was sure it was on my account, as usual, so I opened my eyes to see what I managed to do this time. And what I saw was this kid, standing with his hands over his crotch, pain on his face, and all of the other kids pointed and laughed at him. Considering that he stood at the other side of his team's court and that I didn't aim at him to begin with, but just prayed that the ball would make it to their side of the court, it was a miracle. He ran away shortly afterward, crying. Nobody minded the next time in the game when I barely managed to throw the ball hard enough for it to the other side.

Congrats on Pinky, Jilli.

My parents pretty much never went to bat for me on anything. I guess their idea was that it would toughen me up. It didn't. Maybe in other circumstances it would have but given that I was a creation of emotional abuse, it didn't. I just because submissive in most of what I did in life. And that really affected me ability to make a living, etc. *sigh*

I wonder if there are so many bullying stories here because it's more prevalent than people think or because a Buffista board is more likely to be an assemblage of smart quirky people who would have been picked on?

I wonder if there are so many bullying stories here

%age wise, there haven't been that many, really. And I don't know if being smart and quirky has anything much to do with being bullied. I think the power dynamic is just about being able to get away with it.

There was a kid who lived next door who would hit me. I finally told my parents and my dad told me to punch him in the nose the next time. So I did. He ran screaming home with a bloody nose and I became the protector of the other kids in the neighborhood.

The only time I remember ever hitting someone else in anger was my sister, and I only did it because she egged me on (Me: "Sometimes, you make me so mad, I could just hit you!!" Her: "Fine, right here, right here." ::points at her cheek:: Me: "Fine!" ::smack!:: ::followed by me running away to my bedroom as fast as I could run::)

I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't have been a target for bullying - I was small and weird, wore glasses since second grade and had a funny name - but I wasn't. Just lucky, I suppose.

It only happened to me a couple of times, but there came a point in school when someone would be taunting me, I would be standing there quietly watching them, then all of a sudden they were on the floor and my hand hurt. Honestly, I remember the incidents clearly, and the biggest impression is of how calm and peaceful I felt just before I smacked them. Oh, and the shock on all observers' faces. Fortunately I've learned to recognize that feeling of zen violence before it escalates, because grown-ups aren't supposed to simply punch people, darn it. Oh, and Hubby has learned to recognize the look on my face, though he claims he can hear the psychic alarm bells of me locking on a target and bringing weapons to bear.

There wasn't a lot of bullying in the Catholic schools I went to. Unless you count the nuns!

I got mocked. For being a spaz. Other crips thought I was weird for other reasons, entirely. In junior high school, my best friend and I got "outed".(We had one of those very intense "BFF" relationships that now I think *might* have been a little erotic, but we weren't really each other's girlfriend.) now, it's kind of funny, but it upset me then.

I moved just once as a kid, between sixth and seventh grade (my parents waited to let my sister graduate). I think that contributed somewhat to my roller-coaster on the bully scale. I had a bully when I was little; she would dig her fingernails into the backs of my hands. It only gotten noticed (and stopped cold) because I wasn`t able to hide the injuries during piano lessons. Yay for music!
 
But then I was a tomboy and used to fight later, so I was something of a bully myself in that context. There were two of us who were ringleaders of this more oe less consensual group that used to chase and fight during recess. We never got busted for it, but everyone else did.
 
I developed a reputation for being a prude (and I was kind of an ass about it) so the move came at the right time for me and I was able to reinvent myself at the new school. I played the social game there, made it to the top rung and was disappointed with the people and events. So I dropped out of that effort and it was rough for me for a while there.
 
But later years in high school found me with awesome friends, importantly including a boy kicked out of the city school for knifing someone. He scared everybody and we were buds so everyone left me alone.