I was at my mom’s many moons ago, and I found the little books they let you make in grade school, even the special hard cover ones. I loved writing even then. But in grade 2,3,4 I was bright-eyed and confident in myself and my writing was courageous…brilliant even. I mean, it was small sentences in grade school language but I had humour and grace. Now I second guess myself and every word seems not good enough.
I was in Grade 8 when I got separated in to a different classroom than all of my friends. I became the punching bag and geek. I was ostracized and beaten on. Daily I would wonder if school would include my gym clothes stolen, gum mashed in my hair, erasers chucked at my head, my homework ruined by slanderous graffiti written all over it or a gross mystery gift in my locker. I knew I hit a new low when the bitchy geek wouldn’t pair with me for a class project in French class. She looked at me like she’d rather be dead. I began to doubt myself. In everything. In writing, in clothes, in schoolwork…I began to slouch. I began to stress eat and gain weight. I wanted the extra padding to comfort me and give me a thick skin, to be my armour. To make me insignificant and therefore invisible. And the slouching. The closer I could be to the ground or my desk, the better. Maybe I could make myself so small that they would stop picking on me. Maybe if I hunched over enough they wouldn’t notice me- or the weight I had gained in my stomach.
It didn’t work. That never works. Now I have horrible posture for no good reason. Out of habit, I hunch my shoulders in and I bow my head down. And it sucks. I vow to get my confidence back. Eff you school bullies, that was over 10 years ago and I don’t think the effects should still be showing on me physically.
That is all.