When I was in elementary school, I was bullied a lot after transferring to a new school district. I didn't fit in at all, my haircut sucked, my clothes were cheap, and everyone else in the school district was rich, well-dressed, and well-groomed. I got beat up by the older kids and tried to fight back but couldn't catch them once they started running away. My dad heard about a local karate class and I decided to enroll so I could start winning the fights. Soon after starting training nobody started fights with me anymore; it wasn't even that I beat anyone up -- there just weren't anymore fights. I just think I started carrying myself with more confidence. Bullies aren't looking for a challenge, they're looking for a victim.
Bullies are so awash in their own insecurities that they have to make other people feel like shit in an effort to make themselves feel better, and so out of touch with their own emotion that they not only can't deal with sadness or fear, instead channeling it into anger; commonly they also do this with affection as well.
Bullying crap started up again when I got to high school and enrolled in freshman wrestling. Most of the varsity wrestling team were borderline delinquents who had all been caught and disciplined by the vice principal of their junior high school... who happened to be my mom. They were all really stoked to have a chance at revenge every day. I got pink-bellied a dozen or so times, had my clothes ripped and torn off from me, and every moment where wrestling was practiced was a series of overlooked fouls. When it got out that I was quitting, half of the varsity team confronted me in the locker room at once and beat the hell out of me.
I'd also planned to get back at any of them when I found them separated from their pack, but a chance never appeared. They were always around each other outside of the gym, probably because they were always at odds with the football team; the teams hated each other. Anyway, I never found one of them alone.
A couple years after graduating HS a guy at a gas station was staring at me; I finished filling up and left, got two blocks away when I realized it was the worst bully of the group. I spun the wheel, did a U-turn and went back but the guy was already gone. Though I regret missing him, the timing is probably for the best.
Recently I caught up with a guy from the Jr. varsity team, and we talked about old times. He brought up that guy, the worst bully, and mentioned that he'd been shot to death a few years ago. I actually felt bad for the guy; apparently he never learned not to be a dick.
