I've always wondered how some people look so well put together. To me, it seems like they have everything figured out. From the outside, they have a great body or good looks or a successful social or professional life. But boy was I wrong. I fell for the oldest trick in the book believing that. I'm sure other people did too when they looked at me. Well, let's start somewhere more familiar.
Middle school and high school are supposed to be awkward and slightly terrible and terrifying. It's called puberty. But for some reason there's always that one girl that always looked so "perfect." I could never mess with my hair or make-up enough to look even close to the way she did. After a while of not understanding this conspiracy, I just gave up.
For as long as I can remember I was the tall, nerdy girl. I'm not kidding and I still am today. But as a kid, my peers sure could make fun of me on the playground. Some were really mean but others just left me alone because they knew I could run faster than them. Haha, suckers. None the less, I was always self conscious about my too short jeans or my hoodie that could never quite reach my wrists. I wasn't happy or proud with my tall body and it sucked. It was the only body I had. Hell, I always had acne and sometimes it still flares up. In simple words, fuck puberty. You can be grateful afterwards but while you got it, it's awful.
That's a good basis for my story which, I know, is what you all wanted to hear anyway. I'm going to be completely honest and this could get a little long but I might leave out a couple of details.
So there was this guy...isn't that how all these female stories start? That's sad...and we'll call him Brad for namesake and to keep his real identity a secret. Although if certain people read this, they'll know exactly who he is. Sorry Brad.
I had just started high school and boy was I at the bottom of the totem pole. I was the blonde gangly girl with braces and a poor complexion but I had survived middle school so I had something to be grateful for. I knew I wasn't pretty or beautiful but I was thin (thanks to a high metabolism) so I wasn't a total loss. C'est la vie.
Then I met Brad. [Terrible horror music ensues.] Nah, just kidding. He was an upper classman and cute and nice and it was crystal clear that I liked him. I'm sure he liked me too...for about 2 days...but I was just fresh meat. We became friends and I was satisfied yet holding onto the hope that he would ask me out. No such thing happened. Instead, I became the really good friend that just listened to all of his problems while he dated EVERY girl in the book. And these girls weren't your typical stereotypes. No, everyone of them managed to be psychotic. You think I'm joking but Brad could really choose them. And just like the one before the her, they broke up. Shocker. The guy wasn't a mess after each break-up (though some are) but I was always the good friend who acted like an air duct system and listened to him vent. Word for the wise, if someone just uses you as a ventilation system, get out now.
Something must have changed because Brad started paying just a little more attention to me. This may seem like good news but there's always a black, deathly lining. And that ominous threatening cloud was..."Brittany." I'm sure we all know that one girl who seems oh-so-nice to her close, elite group of friends and maybe some outsiders. In reality, MIB is hunting her down because there's an evil purple alien baby about to pop out and scream "Fuck you Bitch!" LOLz. Ironic....
Ok that was a little much. But honestly, there's always that moment when everyone is trying to tell Spunky Sally not to date Joe Shmo and she just doesn't listen. Facepalm! Poor Brad.
I tried to say something but Brad started dating Brittany anyway. After a while you could see the strain but hey, whatever. I'm could hear the whip crack from the friend zone. There's an app for that.
Note about the Friend Zone: FUCK the friend zone. If someone is dumb enough to put you in the FZ prison and you are dumb enough to stay there then you don't deserve them. And truth be told, they sure as hell don't deserve you. Get out of the FZ prison and either try or just give up. Yes, it's reverse psychology but you know what I'm saying. Why choose to be unhappy?
<<That awkward moment you (A) you wish you knew what you know now then and (B) you should have taken your own advice.>> Damn it.
It got worse. Happy couple turned to into crazy woman and boyfriend on a leash in a couple of months. Therefore, Brad started hanging out with me more and more. I played my part as "ventilation system with a smile" perfectly. But he slowly started flirting and making moves on me. I was flattered but I didn't blatantly stop him. I came to realize that 1. he was unhappy and 2. he was a cheater. Stupid little naive me didn't stop anything and didn't understand what was to come.
He was a cheater and the woman always finds out. It wasn't huge but his flirting and move-making was cheating. I still don't know why I didn't just say, "enough." But the name calling started to fly. All of a sudden, people were talking behind my back calling me a bitch, a slut, and a whore all because Brad kissed me.
I tried to brush it off but it just kept coming. I guess I thought that Brad would stop talking to me and tell Brittany to leave me alone too. A small part of me wished he would dump her and choose me, like that would ever happen. The black, deathly, ominous cloud grew larger and things got even worse. More people and more name calling kept beating down less and less of me.
Then things became scary. I knew I was depressed. I either wouldn't stop eating or I wouldn't eat at all. I was tired and slow moving. I didn't want to get out of bed and I didn't want to face people. I was, of course, overly emotional and began fighting with my mom. I was mean to her and I ultimately ruined our relationship.
That's the one thing I regret the most. Parents love you no matter what and I threw it in her face. I've been working to make it better ever since.
I hated myself. It was like all of those names came crashing down and I actually started believing them. I thought I was an ugly, disgusting human being. That's the thing about name calling. I cried myself to sleep most nights. I just shut down inside. I wasn't the same person with my friends or family. I became this person with a dark cloud constantly looming over her head. And for about 4 months, I really thought about suicide. I wondered if anyone would care if I was gone. I wondered if the pain would stop and if dying was easier than living in my own miserable world. Inside, I knew that I could never take my own life, but I constantly thought about it. It was the first time in my life I had really considered the meaning of death.
That May, Brad graduated and left. Thank god. I couldn't handle any more of it. Brittany was still there but I later realized that without him, she was just another insecure bitch. Obvi.
That summer things changed. I planned on going to CCO for LIT but we had to evacuate after 2 days on our backpacking trip. Leave because of bear poop, return to camp to find everyone sick with Nora Virus. Great. Luckily, I had also planned on going on a two week backpacking trip in Northern Wyoming with the Women's Wilderness Organization, based in Boulder. With two trip leaders and about 10 teenage girls, I was nervous but very excited.
It was a honestly, an amazing trip. Rock climbing, bathing in rivers, chilling by lakes, and star gazing was just the beginning. At our third campsite, we camped by a lake in a valley and the stars were at least 10 times what you would normally see in Denver. It was like being in the presence of a divine power. I truly felt like I had seen God's reflection in the sky. I couldn't sleep that night because it was so bright and beautiful.
During that trip, I spent so much time just thinking about my past, present and future. I had to come to terms with what had happened during those 2 years. I had to forgive myself and begin to forgive Brad. Forgive, but never forget. I realized that I didn't really know who I was and I was completely lost inside. However, in those moments, I could decide who I wanted to be.
One morning we got up at 4 am to scale the peak we were camping at the base of. We reached the top just as the sun was rising. After a long, hard journey the destination was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. I started to cry, looked up and saw a bald eagle circling overhead. In that moment, all the pain and hatred I had been carrying washed away. The weight of my past had been lifted from my chest with the rising sun. I was free.
I decided then and there who I wanted to be. And I've been working on becoming that person ever since.
I returned to high school for my junior year a changed young woman. Lucky for me, puberty decided to wrap up as well. I was still disproportional but I could appreciate my long gangly legs. My braces came off and I couldn't stop smiling. I gained the confidence in myself that I had been looking for and that I had always needed.
I don't regret anything. You may think I'm crazy for saying that but it's the truth. Though I forgave Brad for everything that happened, I didn't forget. I learned from everything and I wouldn't be who I am today without those experiences. The drama, the tears, the depression and the discovery all lead to the person who writes these words now.
Here's the twisted part that still makes me laugh. Brad and I are friends now. Right?! Like "facepalm"! What was I thinking? Well, he finally grew some sense and realized that I was "The Girl" that he should have dated all those years ago. And when he showed up 4 years too late it took a lot of convincing for me to even consider allowing him back into my life. He sure did make a grand entrance back into EvaLand but we're good buddies. He knows he will never get another chance like the ones I gave him in high school. But I think he is satisfied that we can have some sort of relationship now, however dysfunctional it may be. Brad doesn't know this, but I sort of consider him to be my gay best friend, even though he isn't gay. But I treat him like that. Haha karma?
That's the story. My teenage hood had its hardships but none of them compare to some of the stories I have heard. But it's who I am and I understand that our actions and experiences define us. I changed my morals, values and personal philosophies. Now I'm just striving to be my best self, my camp self.
Much love,
E
