Outcast to Captain: Turning being bullied into my superpower

Growing up, I felt like I was always on the outside looking in. No matter where I went, no matter how hard I tried to fit in, It felt like I was always the odd one out. I’ve lived in five different states, and that made it even harder to find a place where I belonged. Everyone had these tight-knit friend circles, the inside scoop, and being part of a clique just seemed to come naturally to them. But for me? It never came easy.

I’ve always been someone with a lot of energy, a natural athlete, a leader—an alpha. I knew what it meant to perform, to lead, and to push myself to be the best. But from the start, my journey wasn’t like the others. I wasn’t ever invited to prom, or the kid who got crowned homecoming queen. I wasn’t even the one who got invited to parties. And no, it wasn’t because I was new or unfamiliar to people. It was because they saw me as a force—someone they felt threatened by, someone to be put down to make themselves feel better. My extraverted personality made them feel smaller, and instead of welcoming me, they tried to shrink me.

At my first high school, I quickly realized that people weren’t always going to cheer you on. It wasn’t just about being new—it was about being different, and for some, that was something they couldn’t handle. One of my first experiences was getting yogurt thrown at me while I wore my cheerleading uniform, all because I was framed for something I didn’t do. But instead of letting that moment define me, I chose to rise above it. It wasn’t about the yogurt—it was about how I responded to it. I could have allowed it to hurt my spirit, to make me retreat and give up on the things I loved, but instead, I used it as fuel. It reminded me that no matter what people threw at me, I had the power to decide how it would impact me.

When I moved to a new school, I was ready for a fresh start. But instead of finding a welcoming environment, I found myself facing new challenges. I was set up, my privacy invaded, and received threats. I was targeted, and it seemed like I couldn’t catch a break. But here’s the thing: I didn’t let it stop me. Every time someone tried to knock me down, I stood back up. It wasn’t always easy, but I knew one thing—I control my story.

There was a moment when everything had been taken from me—my passion for dance, the friends I thought I had, the sense of belonging I longed for. I hit rock bottom. But that’s when something shifted. Instead of allowing my struggles to define me, I realized that they were shaping me into something greater. I made a video diary to my future self, speaking directly to myself about everything I would overcome. I let myself cry, I let myself feel the pain—but I also promised myself that I would be stronger because of it. I would use the hurt as fuel to build the person I was destined to become.

I got the courage to audition for my college dance team, and against all odds, I made it. I walked onto that team and instantly found friends who had gone through similar struggles. They understood me in ways no one else had before. Sure, there’s always one or two people on any team who might try to bring you down, but this experience was different. I wasn’t just a dancer—I was a person who had learned how to persevere. I had learned that I was stronger than anything life threw at me.

I kept my focus on growth. I didn’t just work on my dance skills; I worked on myself. I worked on becoming the person I knew I was meant to be. I cultivated strength, confidence, and resilience. People kept trying to knock me down. They wanted me to fail, they wanted to see me crumble, but I didn’t. I kept my head high, my eyes forward, and my heart full of purpose. I trained, day and night, pushing myself beyond my limits.

Every challenge I faced became a stepping stone to something bigger. With each year, I grew—both as a dancer and as a person. This is where I am grateful to have my Apolla Compression Socks to help me train easier, comfortably, through anything. I became a leader, a friend, a teammate, and someone who could show others that no matter what they had been through, they, too, could rise.

As I finished my senior year of college, I took the ultimate leap and auditioned for the Las Vegas Raiderettes. Two weeks before I graduated, I found out I made the team. That was the moment. That was my proof. It wasn’t for anyone else. It wasn’t to show the bullies I had faced in the past that I could do it. It was for me. It was to prove that I am enough. That I can do anything I set my mind to.

This journey has taught me so much about who I am and who I’m becoming. I am the person I’ve always aspired to be. I’m a leader, a fighter, and a survivor. My story is one of resilience, strength, and determination. And now, I get to share that with others who’ve been through similar struggles—those who’ve been bullied, outcasted, or made to feel small. 

To anyone out there feeling the way I did, I want to say this: Your struggles do not define you. You are not the sum of the cruelty others show you. You are capable of amazing things, and the sky is the limit. Keep pushing. Keep rising. Keep fighting. You are destined for greatness, and you have the power to turn your pain into your superpower. Never forget that.

Hi I’m Audrey and I am on the Raiderettes! I am a driven, resilient, hardworking girl with a passion for dance and caring about my teammates. When I’m not dancing I enjoy my gym time, studying nutrition, and working in corporate in Marketing. The most important thing I value is to have an identity, make an impact, and motivate others to be the best versions of themselves, inside and out.