It was all my dad's fault
On starting at big school as a very small boy, just turned 11, I was fully expecting to be bullied.
My dad took me to one side just before I left to school and told me 'Bulies are cowards, they hang around in gangs, and only pick on people who will not stand up for themselves. If you are being bullied by a gang, have a pop at the smallest one.'
My two elder sisters walked me to school and filled me with horror stories about het boys in thier years who would be terrorising the new kids from that day onwards, even going as far as pointing out 'bullies' as we got to the school gates.
On the first break of the first day, I was wondering around the school on my own when I spotted a ganag of bullies my sisters had pointed out to me that morning.
They came marching over towards me, and I was bloody terrified. The biggest one came up to me and started talking at me. I was too terrified to really hear what he was saying and instead just went flying in on the smallest member of the gang, fists and kicks flying. I knocked him down, and carried on pummelling away, as the rest of the bullies tried to drag me off.
Well, I say bullies, but they were actually my sister's boyfriend and his mates, who were seeking me out to show me around, at the request of my sister.
Word got around of my unprovoked attack, and many kids saw me as a pyscho that should be avoided, while other kids, who were clearly far harder than me, saw me as a target to prove their own pyschoness against.
(Jackson Cannery, Tue 19 May 2009, 17:59, Reply)