TRUE-LIFE
Sticks & stones
Bullies made life hell till something had to change
Joanne Charlton, 24, Huddersfield
Peering at my reflection, I wiggled my nose and ran my finger down the bridge.
‘It’s what makes you special,’ my mum said, spotting me examining my face again.
I smiled at her in the mirror, believing what she said was true.
She and my dad were always telling me I was beautiful.
Even when I didn’t feel it.
I was born with a cleft nose, meaning my nose was split in two.
As well as a scar down my nose and lip, I had trouble breathing.
I spent my early years in and out of hospital.
By September 2010, when I was 11, I’d had three ops on my nose to close the gap and reduce scarring.
I was about to start secondary school and thought I was ready for whatever life threw at me. Only, the moment that I stepped through the doors, I felt the stares and heard the whispers and sniggers.
‘Pig nose’ and ‘no nose’ echoed after me down the school corridors.
Of course, I tried to ignore it, but it never stopped.
‘They’ll soon get bored,’ my dad said. If only… And over time, the jibes cut deeper than any surgical incision ever had.
I couldn’t escape the taunts in the playground
‘Let’s talk to the school,’ Mum and Dad said.
Teachers agreed to let me leave early and arrive late so I’d miss the taunts on my way to and from school.
But I couldn’t escape at lunch or in the playground.
I had some friends, but they couldn’t do much to help.
In 2013, I was assigned a support worker to help me cope.
But as I got closer to my GCSEs, the name-calling became too much for me.
Miserable and embarrassed, I started skipping school, studying at home instead.
I passed my GCSEs with flying colours.
Dreamed of going to uni, wanted to work in marketing.
But that meant I had to get A Levels.
I hoped that when I started a new sixth form in September 2015 things would be different.
Perhaps the bullies had grown up?
Wrong.
I’d barely set foot in the place when a group of lads started their usual taunts. ‘Alright pig nose,’ one called after me.
I felt awful.
I didn’t ask to look like this, why were people so cruel?
I lasted a few weeks before I was back to refusing to leave the house again.
‘I want more surgery,’ I begged Mum. ‘Anything for the bullying to stop.’
In 2016, she suggested I move back to my school sixth form for my BTECs.
‘Time for a fresh start,’ she said.
It worked.
People gave me the odd stare but that was it.
My confidence grew, and I began leaving the house more and more.
Socialis
