fbpx

I struggle with myself daily. I am always on a quest to better myself as I feel I am never good enough. Today I asked myself why and I think I found the answer.

When I was in grade eight, I had two friends, “Ella” and “Fiona”. I loved my friends. They were near and dear to my heart. I knew Ella since grade three and I had met Fiona in grade seven. We studied, hung out at lunch hour and spent much of our spare time together.

I adored both of my friends but I started to idolize Fiona. She was smart and inspiring, as she had interests and ideas that were clearly her own. She loved football, motorcycles, sports cars and aspired to be a lawyer. I was in awe of her individualism, so was everyone else. She was popular. Not the “as you see it on television” sense of popular. She was grounded and real to herself, which made her likable and esteemed by most of the people in our school.

I however, was not popular. I had been bullied and teased since grade four. My torment seemed unending. The abuse I suffered was emotional. I was ugly, a “dog”, a nerd, a geek, a dork, four-eyes, a spaz…. I was an outcast.

Ella wasn’t popular either but she wasn’t bullied. Moreover, she was able to be my friend and avoid being ostracized by the rest of our classmates.

There was one day in grade eight when Fiona passed a note to me before class. I was excited. She cared enough to write me a note! This had to mean that our friendship was growing… we were getting closer.

Then I read the note.

Her words tore through my spirit. Fiona emphasized that I was a “poser”. I only liked the things she liked, my aspirations were her aspirations first and she hated me for being so immature. That’s a summation, the letter was a full loose leaf page… front and back. It highlighted my shortcomings and critiqued my lack of individuality.

I left the classroom and called my mom at work. I told her I was sick and I went home.

I spent the day crying. I read that letter over and over again. I evaluated its contents and bawled over the details. After a day of self-reflection and torment, I came to the conclusion that Fiona was right. I didn’t like football. I didn’t want to own a motorcycle and I really didn’t want to be a lawyer… I wanted to be an architect. Regardless of the truths in the letter, her words were hurtful and cruel.

This was a defining moment in my life. It was at this point that I truly felt that I was not something special. I felt I was less. I felt I had nothing unique to offer to the world. I was confused about my self-identity and was lost as to how to find the real me. In retrospect, does any teenager have a clear sense of self? I don’t think so.

I eventually lost my two friends. I couldn’t trust Fiona anymore and Ella had become one of her closest friends, which left me alone… fighting through the world of adolescence without an ally.

Years later, I’ve realized that I’ve struggled to open up to others for the fear that they could hurt and reject me. I’ve struggled with myself. Do I really know who I am? Am I sincerely me? I’ve spent years searching for my own identity. I may look like the person who can’t get hurt, who is strong and who can overcome adversity. I may look like I’m confident and that I have life figured out.

However, today I realized that there’s still a part of me who is that little girl… crying at home, reading that note over and over again and tormented by the fact that she may be insignificant in the eyes of others. That is the reality of being the me. The sensitive me. The real me.



SHARE WITH OTHERS

Jennifer Bly on FacebookJennifer Bly on InstagramJennifer Bly on PinterestJennifer Bly on Twitter
Jennifer Bly
Jennifer Bly
Author of My Kitchen, My Classroom: An Introduction to Homeschool and creator of The Deliberate Mom. Jennifer writes about parenting, homeschooling, her faith, and life with her husband and two girls. Jennifer has a Bachelor of Applied Human Service Administration Degree with a specialization in Early Learning in Child Care.



Cookies are disabled. This site uses cookies to offer you a better browsing experience. Click the ACCEPT COOKIES button to enable cookies. LEARN MORE

The cookie settings on this website are set to "allow cookies" to give you the best browsing experience possible. If you continue to use this website without changing your cookie settings or you click "Accept" below then you are consenting to this.

Close

Cookies are disabled
Accept Cookies by clicking "ACCEPT COOKIES" button.