I too was introverted (quiet and introspective). I was also visibly poor with ill-fitting clothing, an inability to pay for my lunch, and suffered from abuse and neglect at home at the hands of my parents. So, overall, my childhood was unpleasant. Which drew the mean girls, and some mean boys, in like flies. I never hurt or bullied any of them, but they just had to be bitches. Had to be mean for the sake of mean. To build themselves up while tearing other people down.
Now, as an adult, when people try to excuse their little princess’ or prince’s ugly behavior as, “Oh, they don’t know any better,” or “he/she didn’t mean to do it,” I call bullsh*t. Those brats know exactly what they are doing when they gang up on the quiet girl or bookish boy in the corner. They know the mocking and picking are eroding at their well-being. They just don’t give a sh*t. At least, that is how I see it. I have no tolerance for bullies, having been a victim. Those kids made my daily life at school hell. Couple that with an even worse home life. As a result, I don’t particularly like most people. I often assume they have some ulterior motive or just want something — not friendship for sure.