I got bullied at school, all the way through until the end of high school.
The first month at University (attend some years later) I went to a ball in fancy dress - riding boots, spurs, breeches, a leather waistcoat - the theme of the ball was 'dress your fetish'.
At one point I got called over by Roger - captain of the Rugby team, jock extraordinaire - and two other Rugger buggers buddies of his. They were laughing at me, which I didn't mind - the unadventerous dills had just put on DJs rather than expend any effort, so I knew who looked funny in my eyes.
But when Roger deliberately slopped a pint of beer down my front, I horse-whipped the bastard before I'd really had time to think about it. I had a crop in my boots, and next thing I knew it was going towards his head at full force. I had just enough time to pull the blow slightly and make it land on his neck rather than his face, and follow it with the same on the other side.
I then stalked round him stiff legged telling him exactly what I thought of him and went to rejoin my friends who were catching flies.
No one ever gave me shit again. The look on his face, his friend's faces, and him coming up and apologising a few minutes later were true items of joy.
At school I took the turn the other cheek crap far too seriously. I now know that if return violence offered in kind, the kids who bully (rarely the bravest of the brave) will pick a traget that doesn't hit back.
I think I'd have been encouraged or even expected to handle things this way (returning violence for violence) if my parents hadn't been dubbies.
I also think asnwering a question about whether I masturbated honestly was possibly the stupidest thing I did at school 'no it's against my religion' was something that haunted me for years afterwards. And it wasn't even bloddy true, as I beat-off as much as any 14 year-old!