My story part two
At that time yet another group of girls ganged up on me to attack me,in school several times. The first attack, with three girls at one time, I froze and covered my face in a ball until teachers came to help. Every day I still experienced harassment. They snickered and whispered 'slut' and would ask me why I "stick my chest out". Obviously I didn't. I was just developing fast and I couldn't hide my breasts. I tired by using sports bras that would flatten me out and by wearing layers of tops like armor.
After a second physical attack by two of the same three girls I decided to do what had worked for me in the past. I told them that I'd be happy to have a fair fight. One on one, one at a time. I also used whatever chance I could to advertise this to the other kids, just to gain some popular opinion that a fair fight is the only way anyone could win. I had long since stopped trying to convince people who hated me not to or that they were wrong. I didn't care. I managed to get enough of the kids to question the lies about me that at least I could talk to some of them from time to time.
As is always the case teachers and parents were no help and the girls had no real reason to attack me. They did it because it was a bonding point. It was popular opinion that I was a horrible slut that deserved to get beaten. That is one hell of a way to feel about yourself at 12. :angry:/>/>
I was already starting to get cold, removed and calculating. I did not have time to cope with the SA because I was continuing to be assaulted. My emotions started shutting down. I started to wear a mask. This is the first point where I can recognize some of the coping tools developing. Healthy or unhealthy, this is what I did to survive.
My mask was that of a sexually experienced girl. One who knew more than everyone else. She didn't have to take this abuse from silly little kids!. She had friends in high school (I didn't yet). She went to parties that no one else was invited to. She smoked cigarettes. She drank alcohol. She was tougher than she looked. You didn't want to mess with HER. She didn't have time for trivial child stuff anymore.
More later. Must regroup.