Starting Grammar, I had always known that I was different. Knowing that I would never truly be accepted for who I was and who I liked, so I hid it from people.

My first year at Grammar was great, no bullying, harassment or exposing my secret but my later years were hell. Getting put in a class full of privileged popular kids who LOVE to see people hurt was one of the worst times of my life. I kept quiet, tried not to be seen and hoped that no one would find me out. But as always, life came crashing down on me. I slipped up somehow. Not knowing how they knew, but knowing they knew who I was inside was horrible.

The harassing started slowly. The guys in my class would call me faggot, talk about me in front of me and just generally make me feel bad. I had begun to develop a crush on one of my class mates, who just happened to be a popular kid. He was nice, caring and funny but when your friends start to make fun of someone you begin to as well, and that’s what happened – he picked on me as well. Things got worse at the end of the year they started saying it to my face, making comments out loud to the whole class, telling other people until it progressed to me contemplating suicide. But as the year finished things died down and I had begun to realise who I was as a person, and who they were as people.


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