I was an easy target for the first 3 years of secondary school - and you know how they would say "don't react, they'll stop if they get no reaction"?
People are smarter than that. They can see when you're torn up inside no matter how steely your gaze. And they'll get off on it if they're that kind.
None of mine was physical either - but it was pretty constant sneering, laughing in my face, exclusion, nasty under-breath comments, obvious "we're saying nasty things about you, look" whispering, all that sort of stuff that just grinds you down, day after day. It was like I could never do anything right - I became a completely shy reclusive mouse just trying not to get any attention at all, but they'd always find something to jeer at. Stupid, minute stuff.
One day I'd had enough, the 'cool' people could laugh and joke and act like idiots and have silly school bags and some didn't even have 'the right shoes' (Kickers, in my day) and somehow it was OK. Why wasn't I granted that freedom?
Easy target, I was.
In the end I forced myself not to be embarrassed. It wasn't worth it any more. Eventually the fakery turned real and I wasn't hiding myself away - I'm quite the opposite now.
It's hard though, really hard. It's like punching back, you have to be able to laugh back.
Or, say something that throws them. I used to get teased for having a bit of a moustache, my nan told me "Next time love, tell them you're going to grow it really long and plait it down both sides like an old Chinaman!" I did, and it did indeed throw them, they weren't quite sure what to say.
I did wax the thing off once while still at school, and the main bloke who gave me gip for being "the bearded lady" (I mean, FFS) actually asked me where it had gone. I told him, and he asked me if it hurt, "yes, a lot". He went a bit quiet, then said 'fair play' or something similar, and never gave me stick again. Not sure he realised until then that what he was doing actually made me want to cause myself pain to stop it.
Ooops, essay, sorry.