mean girls

March 3, 2011 at 2:58 pm 1 comment

after my father remarried when i was 10, i was pulled out of public school and put into a small, elite private school. i was an outcast from the get go and tried to hide behind my wallflower ways, but with a mere 500 students kindergarten through 12th grade there was no staying under the radar. especially not with the way i looked. a scrawny little tomboy, the concept of money and style was completely foreign to me. fashion trends and beauty played no role in my simple public school life but suddenly i found myself in a world that judged you by it. i had a few friends that first year. kids who liked me for who i was instead of where i shopped but i silently longed to be part of the in-crowd.

i will never forget the day everything changed. it was 7th grade. my second year there. i was on an overnight trip for an extra curricular program of sorts. i don’t know why i’d ended up there. none of my friends were. just the popular kids. all the girls were hanging out after dinner. them talking and giggling. me quiet and shy hoping that if i didn’t say anything at all maybe they wouldn’t realize that i wasn’t supposed to be there. but somehow the talk turned to me. my long pencil straight ratty hair (how i ended up with these curls i’ll never understand). my jc penny jeans and makeup free face. and before i knew it i was their project. brushes through my strawberry blond locks. eyeshadow. nailpolish. and their clothes ~ a jeans mini and red benetton sweater. the early ’80s trend of worn backwards of course. they created their masterpiece. took the tomboy and turned her into a girl and then they led me upstairs and paraded me to the boys and i blushed to the ooohs and aaahs of how no one ever realized i was pretty.

that night was a buried dream come true. my unspoken invite to be one of them ~ one of the beautiful people ~ and i eagerly accepted. but no matter how desperately i thought i wanted what they had. wanted to be a part of their world. their parties. their status. i couldn’t relate. none of what was painted on came natural to me. the new clothes. the lipstick covered smile. all it did was mask the fact that i still felt like an outsider looking in on their fake plastic world. and of course there was that group, the queen bee and her court, that ensured i knew my place. labeled me beneath them and fueled my insecurity with rumors and gossip of who i would never be.

by the time we reached the high school years i towed the social line. got along with them enough to survive but found my salvation in the others. the freaks and geeks. my best friend had pink hair. a boyfriend had tattoos. but i never lost the makeover that i still somehow hoped would magically turn me into someone a part of me still wanted to be. i’m sure i was a site to see. the preppie little girl in the mosh pit. the gap princess among the tattooed skin heads. from the outside looking in i certainly didn’t belong. but these were the best people i knew. the ones who no more judged me for my rich girl trendy than i judged them for their doc martens and mohawks.

sometimes i still long to be one of them. one of the beautiful people. sometimes shallow seems so much easier then the struggle of trying to be true to me, myself and i. and it’s ironic the clique comparison i can make between then and now. we always say kids can be so mean but truth is, adults can be as well. judgmental and catty. unforgiving of those that stand out rather than blend in ~ whether by choice or by challenge. but thankfully i know better now. i know the queen bee is more insecure than i ever was. i know the rumors and the gossip aim to take the focus off them and try to knock me down to their level of lost. but this time i’m not towing the line. i know where i belong. beneath the pretty i’m as freak, geek and tomboy as they come and that’s what makes me one of the beautiful people.


Entry filed under: life, random, relationships. Tags: , , , , , , .

week of feb 20 ~ gasparilla half pr back stepping

1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. kitkat1126  |  March 4, 2011 at 3:25 pm

    I love this post.

    It’s funny that adults truly can be just as catty and exclusive as kids, women especially. But you’re right about knowing the truth behind it now – it’s so easy to see the insecurity and the fear within the queen bee.

    I love that with age comes acceptance and confidence in who we truly are, espcially when it’s a geek/freak/tomboy underneath the pretty shell.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts.

Join 150 other followers

the best of times

5k pr ~ 24:23
10k pr ~ 52:49
half marathon pr ~ 1:55:10
marathon pr ~ 4:10:41
half ironman pr ~ 5:57:50
50k pr ~ 5:33:23
50-mile pr ~ 11:32:39



%d bloggers like this: