The Gay UK Issue 1 | Page 119

THEGAYUK WINTER 13 /14 Issue 1 COLUMN BULLYING: MY EXPERIENCE ! By Daniel Brown Bullying is a bit of a sore subject for me. At the age of 29 I sometimes still find myself haunted by past experiences. I have been on numerous medications, had therapy, and even a stint in a rehab facility in an attempt to ‘get over’ the bullying I endured in my youth. It’s been a long and rocky road, and I still haven’t reached the end. boys. A word started to get thrown at me; a word that I had not really heard before. That word was ‘gay’. Moving up to secondary school should have been an exciting time. However, I was dreading it. I was aware that most of the kids from my primary school were going to the same school. I was scared that the bullying would continue. That fear became a reality when rumours began to spread that I was gay. Of course their assumption that I was homosexual turned out to be correct, but for five years I was persecuted for it. Taunts during classes and at break times were frequent. The mental abuse became a daily occurrence. I was called all of the usual homophobic slurs and On another occasion the same boy, sometimes I would be physically attacked. Appealing to the teachers along with a group of his friends, never achieved anything and I was managed to pin me up against a fence in a corn field and tie me to it. often told to be quiet and stop They then urinated on me and tried making a drama. As time went on I became more introverted and to set fire to me. Luckily my sister eventually fell into a depression. At came along at just the right time and distracted the gang. By the age the age of fifteen that depression deteriorated into bulimia. of ten I was experiencing serious mental trauma. Controlling my food intake and having the power to make myself From around the age of eight the sick afterwards seemed to be the bullying had also begun at school. only thing that I had control over at What started as general namecalling became racist bullying when that time. The situation became the other kids realised that my Dad worse, the bullying more intense, and the self-harm continued. At was white and my Mum was black sixteen I had my first experience of (or ‘half-caste’ as some people call antidepressant medication and it). I was called a mongrel and the mental health services. other kids would say that I didn’t know if I was black or white. Just Something else also happened before leaving primary school the bullying changed focus again. Some when I was sixteen; something surprising. The bullying came to an of the kids in my class had noticed that all of my friends were girls and end.The day came when I could no that I did not hang around with the longer handle the bullying. It was a My experience of bullying began when I was at primary school. I was five years old when a boy in my street started to pick on me. I was quite a weedy child so guess I was an easy target. The bullying began as name calling but as the years went by it became more physical. I was hit, kicked, and spat at. The bullying took a turn for the worse when I was ten-years-old. One day the boy picked up a pair of hedge scissors and tried to cut my head off. I almost laugh when I recall that because it seems ridiculous, but I was terrified at the time. case of fight or flight, the flight being to end my life. In a moment of pure anger I chose fight. Someone who had previously been relatively nice to me started calling me homophobic names so I decided to confront him. When I did that, the boy kicked me and called me a ‘f**king poof’. I lost it. I punched the boy and knocked him off his chair. I ended up getting suspended as a consequence of my actions. In a meeting with my head of year I explained that I was being homophobically bullied. That was brushed it off and said he was ‘not interested in that kind of thing’. I was then suspended. The boy who kicked me and was homophobic received no punishment. Upon returning to school, I noticed that people were leaving me alone. The name calling and violence suddenly stopped. At break time a group of lads came up to me, but instead of being abused I had my hand shook and they said that I’m ‘actually not that bad’. I thought it was completely bizarre that it took me being violent and sticking up for myself for the bullying to stop, but at the same time wished I had done it years previously. For years after I was haunted by the experiences and used mental health services extensively. Now as a mental health professional I am turning my experiences into something positive. With Push Projects, the LGBTQ youth support charity I founded in 2011, I provide a source of support to young people that didn’t exist when I was younger. I have also since returned to my old secondary school to discuss my experiences and work with the