Allow me to narrate to you an emotional story.
My name is Christine, and I am a 22-year-old Chinese-Filipina mass communications student currently studying in a prestigious Manila university.
People describe myself as an innocent, chubby, gentle, smart and humble woman, qualities that developed me into what I am today. But deep inside me lurks a haunted past that continues relentlessly to rear its ugly head.
I was a bullying victim ever since six years old. I have suffered all possible kinds of unspeakable torture: physical, verbal, mental, you know what I mean. It was like a disease that threatened to slay me; every slap, punch and insult naturally became a disaster to me.
Amid all these turbulent times, I resorted to only two key weapons: pen and paper.
Writing has been in my blood from the moment I got bullied. Everything recorded in the diary naturally depends on my mood, but since it has been nothing more than terrible memories, all of the dreadful things I wrote on paper were pessimistic and emotional matters.
I tried hiding these things to myself, but as time went by, I realized the personal stuff I wrote would be much better if I reveal it to the world and teach them how evil the act of bullying can be.
Today I decided to open a blog about my experiences with bullies. This was an ideal opportunity since it marks the start of summer break and school does not begin in two months. My two dearest friends Michelle and Ella have also paid a visit, so it helps to enjoy some company.
"Good morning best buddies," Michelle and Ella exclaimed as they eagerly entered my room.
We hugged each other as hard as possible, exchanging kisses along the way.
"How are you doing'?" Ella asked gently.
"I'm fine," I smilingly replied. Absolutely trying to manage something out of my chest."
It was already 10:00 in the morning, the brilliant sun clearly radiating through my window. Michelle, Ella and I sat at ease on a table and talked enthusiastically about what is going on in our active lives.
At that pivotal moment I carefully opened my portable laptop and presented them the blog that is in the works. This is what I wrote in the first blog entry.
"Day one of the school year is perpetually a student's most dreadful nightmare, and my personal experience was no exception. I was aged six then, immature, raw and lost in a cruel society.
To make matters worse, my parents were not nearby to observe me attend school. Charissa had been assigned to Hong Kong a few weeks earlier, while Clark stayed overnight inside the operating room to attend to a gravely injured athlete.
All that was left was my dear aunt Catherine who fetched me to school that morning. Just before I entered school, Cathy had told me to study hard, enjoy and have fun on your first day. But instead of happiness and awe, agony and fear anticipated.
Shortly after I had introduced myself to new classmates, some of them began to abuse me verbally. They said mean things like 'you're so fat', 'you can't see us' and 'you're ugly', to the point that I started to cry uncontrollably and went directly to my beloved teacher's comforting arms.
At that point, I felt like an outcast and a reject, suddenly disconnected to the new world within me.
Almost immediately my teacher Alyssa stepped in and reprimanded my classmates of their heinous act. She told them to stop picking on Christine or face the wrath of the principal and the guidance counselor.
At first, I felt a sense of relief but during a short intermission my new classmates were at it again, saying disrespectful things behind my back. I tried to remain silent but those boisterous screams began to take its toll on me.
It was here that the horrible reality of bullying began to affect me, a devious act that never ceases to exist.
When school came to a close, I went straight to Cathy and sobbed uncontrollably. She asked me what happened, and I said that I got teased by my new classmates, calling mean things like 'fat' and 'ugly'.
I continued to cry like a baby for a few minutes, unleashing whatever pent-up emotion I had in my body.
Cathy stepped in and told me to ignore those bullies and focus on becoming an excellent student. She added that they won't be as good as you if you study hard. It was then that I stopped crying and hugged Cathy as hard as I could so that I can be at peace with her.
While Cathy's words resonated inside my mind, my horrendous experience with bullies was just the beginning of a wretched childhood that still haunts me to this day. Somewhere down the road, I need to find an escape from my miserable life and even that approach is not as easy as it looks."
"I feel bad for what you experienced," Michelle said. "Christine, We should have defended you. You were one of the most wonderful people I ever knew, but to endure such pain and suffering is very difficult for my heart to take."
"Same with me," Ella answered.
As we continued to talk about the blog, one thing is certain: I am ready to open up and inspire others to do the same.