When the pads come off, David Johnson keeps doing the work. Discover his and other NFL players' charitable causes in their own words at The Players' Tribune as part of a special My Cause My Cleats collaboration with NFL Media.
I still remember the feeling I'd get in the pit of my stomach when I realized I was about to be bullied ... and that there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. It was a type of dread - a physical sensation. I'd describe it as fear mixed with hopelessness. I was just a kid at the time.
This was right around when I was in elementary school, back in Clinton, Iowa.
Not a lot of people know that I was bullied growing up, but it's part of my past, and it's something that I haven't forgotten about. Now, all these years later, I'd like to share some of my experiences so that kids out there who are dealing with bullying will know that there is hope - that there's light at the end of the tunnel.
So let me start out by trying to take you through it.
There was this boy in my neighborhood who liked to pick on other kids - for no reason or for any reason at all. He was bigger than me, and older, and if he wanted to push me, or smack me around, there wasn't all that much I could do about it.
My cousins and I would be out playing - just shooting hoops or running around in the park - and he'd show up, seemingly out of nowhere.
As soon as I saw this kid, my stomach would drop. In the blink of an eye, I'd go from doing kid's stuff and having fun with my friends to being scared half to death. My heart would start pounding. I'd tense up. I knew there was going to be a fight-or-flight situation.
Sometimes we'd try to run and get away, but most of the time when he rolled through we knew we were going to be bullied. That's just the way it was. He and his friends could catch us if we took off, and there usually weren't any grownups around to help.
After the first couple of incidents, my cousins and I realized we needed to be on high alert. I tried taking roundabout routes home from school to avoid him, but I was still always looking over my shoulder.
Most of the time this kid hung out in the park where we all played. I was so scared of him, and so traumatized by the run-ins, that I was always super hesitant to go to the park. I felt like I couldn't freely be a kid and hang out with my friends without constantly worrying if he would be there; that I couldn't play sports or have fun outdoors without being picked on. At the time, I really loved basketball, but this boy and his buddies also played hoops in the neighborhood. So I had to be very cautious about what times I went to the park, because being bullied wasn't worth the risk.
I was scared.
I was scared to go places.
I was scared to do things.
I was scared ... to be a kid.
To read the rest of David Johnson's first person account, visit The Players' Tribune.
