In high school, I was surrounded by people who dress better, are more sociable, and have seemingly perfect lives; in comparison to mine. I believed that so much was important in high school. What I wore, who I talked to, and even what clubs I joined. It wasn’t until, in twenties, I saw yet another high school peer being arrested for drugs, that I realized just how silly it all was.
So why can’t I let go of it?
In high school, I was always trying to be different. I didn’t want to be just like my sisters. I wasn’t ashamed of them in the slightest, but I wanted for once for someone to recognize me for me, not my sisters. So I did crazy make up, wore strange colors, and did a bunch of theatre outside of school. I went to church regularly and joined the choir. That’s even where I met my first serious boyfriend. Not much worked though. Even though I would do a show with someone, once they met my sisters, I was no longer a friends. Just their friend’s little sister.
I would be lying if I said it wasn’t infuriating. But, what can you do? Well it got to the point where it was just me at this school. My senior year. This was supposed to be my year. The year where everyone knew me, and they liked me. At this point I was single, and ready for college at the beach! I was just focused on getting out of there. I ended up as the president of three clubs; Improv, Vocal ensemble, and Play Productions. Those are all vote-ins. So I thought all was well. Right?
Well I would soon find out that basically everyone hated me. They all thought I was stuck-up and didn’t deserve and part in any show because I was such a horrible performer. All of this occurred on Face Book. You could imagine how I felt. These were people I considered friends, my theatre “family”. This was all said through one person, but did anyone stand up for me? Did anyone tell her that they didn’t agree and to shut up? Did anyone back me up?
No. In fact, one of my good friends told this person that they were amazing for saying what no one else had the guts to say. My entire world had fallen apart. Here I am, living my life happy as a clam, just to get slammed with the reality that everyone I knew hated me. It didn’t help that in college, my roommates went behind my back and registered for on-campus housing while I was out looking at 3-bedroom apartments for us.
Some people reading this would say, “So? Not everyone you meet is going to like you, get over it.” But see, you forget, this was in high school. Where everything had mattered to me. To this day, I can’t get close to anyone. What if they hate me too? What if I just annoy everyone I meet? Would it be better for everyone else if I just kept to myself?
I went into a deep depression in college. And I was beyond angry with myself that I let myself get close to people who just ended up hurting me all over again. I knew that people don’t like me. I knew that people will always betray me. So why did I let myself believe that I could be happy with these two? And why did I apologize to them for getting mad at what they had done?
High had a great impact on me. My current boyfriend is constantly telling me that it’s time to move on. Get over it. But how can I? Every single thing that makes me who I am, is because of what happened then. Why I would rather stay home watching Doctor Who, rather than going downtown. Why I spend hours doing my nails, rather than go out to eat. Why I delved into alternative methods of reminding myself that I was a loser, rather than asking friends for help. All because I would rather hurt myself than to let someone else hurt me again. No one should be able to hurt me that badly.
I know that high school is in the past. I know that many from high school are getting arrested. But I also know that those certain people that hurt me so much are living amazing lives. And many people I knew outside of high school now know them, and like them a lot more than they liked me. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that they were right? People don’t actually like me. They just put up with me long enough to find an escape.
There are so many articles explaining why high school doesn’t matter, and how it doesn’t teach you anything. But, for some people, it does. For some people, the worst day of their lives were then. For some people, every moment of their life they remember what was said about them. For some people, they have yet to find the reason to forget it all.
I just hope that one day I will be able to stand proud of who I have become. I know it will be a while, but one day I will prove those girls wrong.
One day I will be happy with who I am.