I always thought that writing was about writing something that makes you feel vulnerable. So I wrote about how I was tormented in middle school about my appearance. I think that anyone can relate to this, female or male. I hope this helps. Be yourself, fuck everyone else.
Okay, so here is the thing. In middle school, I bought Jordans. The shoes, those retro 13s, or whatever number they were, but I don’t really care because I honestly hate Jordans. They are just really ugly to me. (For all the sneakerheads reading this, please don’t slit my throat. I just think it is a really overrated kind of shoe.) Every time I think about how I actually went and got those shoes, it just makes me cringe so hard. They are literally the same style with different colors and the cycle goes on. They are not really new shoes, just a new color. They were pretty pricey. I think for my size they cost $120. Worst of all, I bought them only to be accepted by people I don’t even like.
I got these Jordans because I wanted to be cool. I wanted the bullying to stop, too. A lot of kids in my class would always spit insults at what I wore, especially my shoes. Like, fuck you, I can wear whatever I want. (Of course, I only said that in my head because why cause even more conflict, ya know?) I wanted to be unbothered. Also, I wanted friends, but that did not turn out well for me because they still made fun of me. A waste of money, right?
I was made fun of for having hair on my arms. It was very noticeable, so a lot of kids in my class called me “wolverine” or “werewolf.” So I shaved my arms because I wanted to be cool. I shaved them anytime I saw the hairs growing back at a certain length. I could not risk being made fun of. But all in all, it did not work. But clean arms, right?
Everyone’s favorite thing to make fun of about me was my forehead. So everyone and their mom decided to call me “Megamind.” They basically compared me to the blue guy with the really huge forehead. I cannot lie: It is pretty big. I swear it reached the sky. I could not do much about it, but I did wear my hair down more instead of putting it in a ponytail or anything else that shows my forehead even more. And . . . you guessed it! That didn’t work, either.
I could not name a worse period in my life than middle school. When I finished middle school, I hoped for things to be different, especially the bullying part. When I got to high school, things did change eventually. Although I still considered high school to be a failed experiment in preparing adolescents for the adult world, I have met a few good peeps here and they are all right. I have also started to love myself more, I guess. Hey, at least I’m trying.