How to Beat Bullies - LikeATeen Approved!

From the moment that my uniform-clad self walked through the gates leading towards my new school almost a month ago, it was all but literally written in the stars that I, as a fifteen year old whose past seven years have been solely dedicated to home-schooling, would come across both the good and bad parts of society within the playground. By 'good' and 'bad', I'm referring to the kind-natured pupils who feel at ease with new students breaking into their crowd - and, after a certain period of time, accept them as one of their own - and of course the ones whose less loving side is placed on public display as soon as a stranger (or so their unwatchful eyes believe) turns up on their doorstep. Although I've been fortunate to immerse myself in the light-hearted company of my friendly peers since my life was swept into a whirlwind - one of which is not destined to stop until the final day of term in four weeks' time today - at the beginning of this month, that isn't to say that I've avoided the seemingly brief, yet seething with sarcasm comments being tossed in my direction from time to time.

These people's words have, at my lowest point, sliced me like a knife and bled me dry when I felt incapable of defending myself or indeed hurt at their nasty comments, some of which have even crossed the narrow line between a thoughtless remark and personal business. Undoubtedly, it is unfair that some young people possess a tongue which spreads as much venom as a poisonous snake's bite, and I cannot deny the oh-so-true fact that I've fallen prey to it on a number of occasions during my first few weeks, automatically unlocking a desire to flee the premises and return to the comfort of home. If it wasn't for my carrying a mobile phone - with my parents' phone numbers included - in my blazer's jacket at all times, the prospect of loneliness would forever overwhelm me as I take more and more steps towards 'fitting in', or at least breaking the ice for several of my classmates.

Without intending to adopt a sexist tone or lose sight of my women-friendly ways, it is almost always certain that my source of slight niggling hassles come from the girls with whom I either see briefly at break or whilst waiting for the bus to arrive in the morning. In just a few weeks alone, I've learnt more about female behaviour than a summer-long marathon of America's Next Top Model ever taught me - and, to the shock of my speechless self, now understand why men don't necessarily relate to our needs or mindsets. If all that men can fuss about is the current state of international football (and Luis Suarez's full or half empty stomach during a bite-tastic match), it is hardly a wonder that they struggle to even grasp the basics of our so-called 'issues' which, in my opinion, are often born out of ourselves.

Girls complain about not applying enough fake tan on their legs as though it is the end of the world - if that truly is the case in their heavily eye-shadowed eyes, what would their reaction be like if Boots ceased to exist? - and, as I'm surrounded by a swarm of people who make no secret of their ambition to resemble a Barbie doll, my blood pressure shoots through the roof. Not only does their ignorance towards my academic abilities irritate me beyond belief, but their stupidity when applied to the likes of holding a conversation and displaying polite manners is my near-daily source of stress, particularly as I literally have no choice other than to listen to their insignificant words. But that isn't even the worst of it - like multi-selling copies of Grand Theft Auto, unthoughtful comments aimed at my personal life have been added to the equation and, until this week, have started to lessen and hopefully disappear.

Like almost all teachers and parents will tell you - more often than not failing to sooth your nerves, of course - being the new kid at any school is tough. It doesn't matter whether you're about to start at the poshest fee-paying school in the country or an academy with a tarnished reputation: regardless of your background or contents in your bank account, society is united as one in cases such as this. And so, my expectations of being faced with situations of this kind had crossed my thoughts by the time that my first week arrived because, as my background was indeed unique in its own right, fellow pupils and my peers wouldn't restrain themselves from asking me questions. But at what point does one particular question - one of which related to the reason for which I wore 'high heels', despite measuring a mere 6cm - take on a deeper and potentially hurtful meaning?

To my initial annoyment and later anger, pupils from almost all year groups - and most of whom I didn't speak to, let alone knew - would keep approaching me either during break or lunchtime, tossing as many questions as one would with a pancake on Shrove Tuesday. From my shoes to my knee-length skirt, pupils wouldn't think twice about opening their mouths and asking questions which I would never dare utter in the company of my peers or strangers who, as I'd only spent a handful of days at the school, truly were unknown to me. A group of girls from the youngest year group even wondered aloud whether I came from a rich background because of possessing a 'posh' accent; as a girl who has been brought up by parents who have taught me the value of hard work and sheer determination, hearing those words felt like a slap in the face and, without a doubt, a step taken too far.

Unfortunately, a number of pupils at any school in this country and probably around the world are familiar with the concept of pushing the boundaries, what with manic hormones and adolescence marking its mark during the secondary school years. But shouldn't today's generation be taught about the drawbacks of pushing their luck a bit too far before they become untameable by even the best teachers on the planet? Along with teaching my younger brother and I at home for seven years, my parents added a subject which, despite not currently taught, ought to be included on the national curriculum in the future: respect. From our closest relatives to ourselves, respect shouldn't just be tossed to one side and ignored whilst poor behaviour plagues the education system for years to come - if respect was naturally instilled in the natures of past generations, who is to say the same pattern cannot be repeated in the twenty-first century? However, respect is a lesson which can only be properly taught and forever remembered by a child's parents at a young age, and goes to show that schools are only in a position to do so much for their pupils. I'm not suggesting in any way whatsoever that parents are solely to blame if their child or children misbehave or are offensive towards others, but who else can take responsibility apart from the culpit him or herself?

Alas, I've been given more homework than the others have received in the sense that I'm not only learning about poetry or a geographical outlook on the World Cup, but that I've had to learn to accept others - regardless of whether I like them or not - for who they are. It doesn't matter whether they apply enough mascara on their jet-black eyelashes to resemble a spider's legs or hike their skirts above their thunderthighs because, as long as I make no remark about it (which, from Day 1, I never have done so), I should be able to get on with life in peace. On paper or indeed a digital blog post, it doesn't seem as though I'm making a big deal about it and am quite eager to ignore my surroundings during the seven hours or so spent within school, but what am I supposed to do when people create problems for me?

If I were to go into full detail about past incidents and the drama - minus the actual lessons - I've endured in the past month, I will have missed the school bus by tomorrow morning and will be in a spectacularly bad mood. Not exactly the type of mood you want to be in after sitting on your fur-covered bed in a jet-black pencil skirt and have to later clean up before running out of the door by 8.30am for five mornings per week, but I wouldn't live up to my LikeATeen persona if I didn't spill all, would I? Anyway, by declaring that people have created problems through no fault of my own is not a mere exaggeration or a misuse of the English language because it is downright true; if it didn't mean a thing to me, would I even be writing about it at this very moment? These pupils' games exist in the hope of driving me around the bend, as a form of entertainment for those experiencing withdrawal symptoms from their TVs and Facebook accounts. And do I wish to be a part of it? No way. I might have a long way to go until my 'new kid' tag is taken off when the school makes way for the new Year 7 pupils in Septembers, but for the meantime I have no intentions of being anybody's verbal punchbag.

And now, at long last, I've reached that all-important stage in this entry: how to beat bullies. Despite my incidents with several pupils not going as far as bullying, it has nonetheless defined my strength and contributed to my confidence, which has helped turn something unpleasant into a positive on my part. If bullies or generally mean people are causing you to lose your special sparkle, please do not hesitate to discuss it with an adult, friend or a charity such as Beat Bullying: nobody, especially a great person such as yourself, deserves to go through bullying alone.

Stand up for yourself: Like people often say, 'it's easier said than done', and standing up to bullies when you couldn't feel more vulnerable or weaker doesn't come easily for all people, including myself. By standing up for yourself, I'm not suggesting that you engage in a war of words with the bully/bullies because conversations such as those will obviously not resolve your issues. But I recommend that you don't allow a sarcastic comment pass without applying a short, yet sweet dash of your own thoughts to the mix; you could cooly question the bully's words or ask them a question, which could knock them for six. Yet, if no words spring to mind and you cannot be bothered to waste a breath on them, simply walk away from the bully: at the end of the day, what are they worth? Nothing.

Hang out with other people/friends: As I'm still in the stage where I've yet to break the ice with several of my peers, there are times when I walk around campus alone in between lessons, breaks and lunchtimes; and, in my experience, it has usually been the time when annoying people have approached me and pushed my buttons beyond your wildest dreams. Although I appreciate my alone-time and often crave to separate myself from the loud and noisy blare of the classroom, it would indeed be easier if I hung out with my friends more often: after all, a group of people is deemed to be stronger than a sole survivor. Bullies loving cornering their 'victims' in an enclosed space with nobody apart from their accomplices surrounding them, and it is a trick which many people sadly fall for. In no way at all do I believe that you or myself should never be alone, but get to know when the timing for such incidents could occur: it might very well ease your bullying-related hassles or even bore the bullies themselves if they don't have anybody to play with.

Don't give up: Nothing is easy in this life, but giving up often seems like the simplest way out of a lot of things - including the troubling dilemma of being bullied. However, you must - oh, there is no way that you can escape this truth - realize that, by giving up, you are allowing the bullies to win the fight; and what satisfaction will it give you? In fact, your self-esteem will weaken due to the fact that you couldn't hold on for a moment longer or carry on fighting: it's tough and seems almost as hurtful as the bully's comments, but nobody can deny it. Breaking down in tears and allowing your agony to pour into a box of Kleenex is perfectly acceptable and, for many of us, we can relate to the sickening feeling growing in our stomachs by the time that we get home. From our parents to counsellors trained in bullying-related issues, all of them will say the same thing: don't give up. And, once the battle has been fought and won on your side, who will be complaining? Obviously not yourself, of course!