As you know I posted about my previous crush via the HIMYM type of way. So, this is another one of those. However, this delves into another issue that reminded me of said crush. Recently, I saw the news about how young girls would post videos of themselves asking others if they thought they were pretty or ugly. It made me sick and sad to see these young girls doing this to themselves. And we still deal with these same issues and care about what people think.
So about A. I don’t really use the first letter of their name. I use a descriptor. Now A was an A-hole. Now let me backtrack a bit to how I even got to talking to A-hole in the first place. It all started sometime early on in high school. I had somehow made my way into the group of Mean Girls, and, boy, was I ecstatic. The Mean Girls were just that, and I managed to weasel my way in through some class or something, I’m not even sure. I had never been in the popular group, so to me, this was amazing. They would go to the mall all the time. They would hang out with older guys with their cool cars. I never hung out with them after school, but during school I was all happy to be walking down the hall, hanging out with them during lunch. I tried my first cigarette down the block from my high school with these girls. Not sure what was up with the menthols obsession, but I never smoked a cigarette again. During this time, I met A-hole. I think it all started with ‘so and so thinks so and so is cute’.. etc. He would call me and we would talk about nothing. He was the kind of kid who got in trouble all the time. He didn’t give a shit about anything or school. In fact, I look back and am so disgusted, but anyways, I was a dumb high schooler. Mean Girls started leaving me out and eventually, I left the group entirely. Apparently, most people don’t do that. I felt like an outcast for a while. A-hole even called me to tell me how ugly I looked at school that day. It was devastating to hear. I couldn’t change my face, or how I looked, and of course I cared.
13 years later, I’m still not comfortable in my own skin sometimes. But 13 years later, it’s my issue to deal with, and I don’t have to worry about what other people think. Yes, I’m beautiful inside, but I just don’t always feel beautiful outside. Eventually I’ll get there, but in my own time, and on my own terms.