Same for me, the bullying started in preschool. My mother was a teacher so she taught me to read, write, and count to 100 before my first day. And I never fit in, no matter what I did. One of my earliest memories is of another kid grabbing a painting I made while it was still wet, and folding it over to create a mirror image. I was infuriated that he destroyed something that wasn’t his, and even more at my teacher who didn’t punish him. It only got worse from there on. I sometimes think the only time in life that I’ve ever genuinely been happy was before ever starting school.