Bullying is a strange thing to live through. The years of accepting it as a facet of life is near soul crushing, and trying to lift the guilt and shame and humiliation of it all from your back is enough to send people crazy. The culmination of it all nearly was the end for me, but I am still here, so I guess I'm still alive.
A lot of it fades into the past for me, thankfully. But one day in particular stands out. It wasn't the daily beatings, emotional and physical. The betrayals of trust and confidence. The teachers who turned a blind eye or said it was a natural part of school life, and that it would pass and I just needed to stand up for myself. Or the teacher who would actively bully me for all of year 4 herself in front of the class, leaving me even less people to go to for help.
No, it was the day of my new haircut. I was 11 years old.