Monday, August 3, 2009


I grew up in a pit. That's probably the nicest thing I can say about my hometown. Everyone knew everyone, but not in the happy, lovely Andy Griffith show kind of way.. It was Mayberry's evil twin. It was barren, dusty and lonely. Tucked away from any large city. Once you moved there, your chances of leaving were next to none.. I used to call it my purgatory.
I was born to loving parents. Who worked hard to give me the life they dreamed. They never really succeeded that, and because of guilt, it became easy for them to cast me aside. They turned their sights to making other people happy, at me and siblings expense. They were good people, and I loved them dearly.
I had an older brother and a younger sister. Both equally as annoying as they were lovable. My brother was dark, tall and thin. He had a prominent jaw line and apple cheeks that I envied over. He was artistic and was good at pretty much everything he tried. He was good at being cool without ever putting forth any effort.
My sister was light skinned and had a round face and large, round brown eyes. She was short and chubby. She was smart and could figure just about everything out. She had long pretty fingers that glided over our piano like soft a breeze, filling our house with Mozart and Chopin. I remember when she was a baby, how she seemed to be calculating everything. She would watch and take notes in her head, as if she was archiving the information for when she could use it.
In elementary, I was the fat girl. I went to a big school. Even though it was big, it was easy to stick out. I was quickly labeled. My parents were well known, their reputation did nothing but hurt mine. They were always bending over backwards for people trying to make everyone happy. They were too busy to hear my dreams, or watch my one person plays, or help me with homework, because of that I was desperate for attention and acceptance. Which my longing for approval did all but get me what I desired. I was ridiculed by my peers, and hated by my teachers. It became easy for me to escape into my dream world where everyone worshiped the ground I walked on, and pined for every word I would say. In my world I was the best athlete, the smartest student, and prettiest girl.. Everything in the real world I was not.

I did have a big heart. I wanted everyone to be accepted and loved even if I couldn't be. In third grade a new student came to class. He was black, and and heavy. In my school, in my city, both of those were a crime. He had a goofy smile, and deep interest in people. My peers laughed at him while he was introduced to us. He shifted and and swayed under the stares of all 23 students on him. He was sat in the table behind me. I wanted a friend, and he looked the person to be one.

We had an awkward friendship. He was quiet and very reserved. The most he said to me was, "mmhmm", "yes", or "no". I happily talked his ear off, and was thankful I had someone who would listen. We walked around the playground me gabbing, him listening intently. In my mind he was all I had been needing, in his, just he wanted acceptance. We got teased daily. Especially by Tiffany. Tiffany ruled the playground. As she mocked us, I would stare at her perfect round freckled cheeks. Auburn hair, that was always in high ponytail on top of her perfect head. She always wore designer clothing, and had all lisa frank school supplies that I coveted. Her mom picked her up in her red convertible. I hated them as they drove away, auburn hair waving in the wind. She would call Brandon my boyfriend, and say I was desperate.
I could tell that hurt his feelings. She had been taunting me since kindergarten, so I had become calloused to her teases. Brandon had not. Even though we were good friends, his parents didn't like that all the other students made fun of him. It wasn't long before they pulled him out of school. I wished my parents would have done the same. There were many "Brandons" that came through. I befriended them all, was taunted by Tiffany for all, and most of them didn't last the whole school year. The ones that did we formed a group of misfits that stuck together through high school. We were friends because we had to be. No one else would take us. At our school you were either cool or not cool, there was no inbetween. We had good times together, but never formed a deep, lasting bond. We would join in on the teasing of the other, if it meant we were cool for a day.
Over the years I had many crushes. Most of them becoming that pretty literal to my psyche.. crushing.. Before I got chunky, I had a few boyfriends. First and second grade were the best. I had not gained my "baby fat" as my mother called it, and at that time, being hyperactive and imaginative was still cool. By the time summer had ended and it was time to begin third grade, I was heavy and labeled as weird. From there my boy problems started.


Anonymous said...

Looking forward to more!