Words Can Hurt, But It's Mainly A Choice To Be Offended

I have had an unusual, maybe even messed up life. I won't go into details. But, fate has landed me here, living in a trailer, being that kind of kid my mother has always hated. It's not MY fault I'm not a square. My grandma always loved it when I tried new things. But, recently, the new things I have been doing haven't been anything to be happy about. And I'm not. While there are many words that ring true to who I am, and many people call me these words. But there is one word (still rings true) that a hate: *****. My boyfriend calls me ***** because he knows it makes me cry. My mother's boyfriend called me a ***** once, and I stabbed him in the shoulder with scissors. He only punished me (at least, this was SUPPOSED to be a punishment) by breaking up with my mom. I would love to be one of those people who can be called a ***** and just shrug it off. But I'm not.