When I was growing up I use to daydream about being anyone but me. I was always the fat, clumsy girl. You know the one everyone picked last for any game, the one not
invited to the cool parties. It was as if I was invisible to everyone, every one that is but me.
I wanted to be thin, have beautiful straight hair, a perfect smile, to be the girl everyone went to for answers.
I remember watching all the girls hanging out, laughing, in their little groups just dying to be a part of it. Wondering what was missing in me that I was never included. Wondering why they couldn’t see the real me.
My first real
girlfriend was Millie. We were in the 6th grade together at Sacred Heart Catholic Church. (It’s true I never had a real friend till I was in sixth grade.)
It was like a whole new world opened up for me when Millie and I became friends. I wasn’t an outcast any more I was part of a group, Me and Millie.
I wish I could tell you that Millie never betrayed our friendship but she did. She found a new friend named Hillary and three became a crowd. So I moved on to find other friends. Always cautious of their motives and sincerity, never truly able to be Me…and open.
It was the same way with boys. They never seemed to see the real me.
Some lesson you never forget.
Some lessons are hard to watch your children go through.
To this day there are moments when I wish I was anyone but me. I don’t know who I would want to be…after all I am sure even the pretty, thin girl with the perfect smile, and beautifully straight hair has had moments when she wanted to be anyone but who she really was.