Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Like the Cool Kids

From everything I had read, or seen, or heard, high school popularity was determined on the first day of high school. Little did I know, that while I was busy protesting the anti-recycling habits of my junior high, my place on the future high-school popularity totem pole was already being forged. By the time I actually got to high school I didn’t stand a chance. I was that bossy, chubby, girl with the weird hair that cared too much about everything.

            So I didn’t go to football games, or hang out at the mall on weekends, I skipped dances, and I read a lot of books. I still tried, I tried really hard.  I would sit by the cool kids table in the lunch room, I would try and flat iron my hair every day, I spent too much money on clothes. But nothing helped my lost cause. I still had friend, not like the friends I have today, but I had classmates that tolerated me and sat by me at lunch.

            Fast forward to senior year I was still the same bossy, determined person but I had learned not to be loud anymore. I grew to resent the popular kids but accept their oblivious flighty attitudes as a character flaw opposed to an intentional act of ignorance. I regarded them the same way I would regard a floppy puppy who tripped over its own ears and looked like it was always going to get hit. That’s not to say that I didn’t totally want to be one of them.

            Over the summer I had gone to one party on a whim. Then I went to another, and another. I didn’t party all of the time, I actually rarely partied, but I became familiar with my class mates in the way that I had always wanted to. Soon I started going to dances and sitting with the cool kids at lunch and learning that I didn’t have to be superficial like them to like them.


            I became a causally regarded member of the cool kids. When it came down to it, I wasn’t the person they called when there was a house party, nor was I the one they invited on spring break but I learned that that had no influence on my value as a person. It took me four years to learn that I was good enough for me and that I was enough to make me happy. That I was happy being the bossy, chubby, loud girl that cared too much about everything. 

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