First of all, let me preface by saying that I was never abused or anything like that, so my story is going to be a lot less “harsh”.
Probably the worst memory from childhood I have was in 4th grade when this guy just hated me for no good reason. He thought I was girly, wimpy, weak, and couldn’t stand me. He made fun of me for hanging out with girls (one time he shoved me in front of the classroom door and the teacher saw and he got in trouble. He also threatened to beat me up once. He was definitely joking, but I took it seriously), he sabotaged one of my projects that I made and I cried to the teacher about it. Finally, his mom and my mom had to talk to each other. After that, he left me alone, but that’s as close to being bullied that I ever got and I did not like it. What was interesting was knowing more about him: he was from the worst part of town, his family was dirt poor, he was being raised by a single mother, and he was black. (It only lasted for a month or so in the beginning of the year, by the way. He was moved out of my class after that).
What’s interesting is that I saw him when I visited Vegas with my friend and he looked at me and nodded at me. He remembered me. Apparently he’s changed a lot since then, according to my friend.
Also, when I was really little, my mom once told me that the clothing I was wearing was “too cheery” (to me that meant “too gay” looking back on it). She still apologizes for saying that to this day and has absolutely no idea why she said it and doesn’t even seem to remember it. But I never forgot it. I’ve completely forgiven her, don’t worry. My mom has been absolutely amazing in accepting my sexuality. :)
That’s as bad as it gets for me, so sorry if it sounds like I had a “cushy” childhood. I pretty much did, not gonna lie.