I’m Not the Problem

The cause of my tears this morning is the perfect example of one thing building on another. For weeks, I’ve felt insecure and nervous about my social interactions. I noticed every little thing, from the way girls would slightly turn their noses up at me when I spoke, and how the direction of the peoples’ eyes that I spoke to weren’t facing mine. I believed that everyone hated me.

My class and I had just finished a pretty tough workout in the weight room in PE. We were given 20 minutes of free time to do whatever we wanted to with. As we walked from the weight room to the gymnasium, I told the girls I typically interact with during PE that I was going to walk, expecting them to say “Me too!” the way it usually does when girls announce what they’re doing. Instead, a very rude and obnoxious girl said “Okay…” in that tone where I just knew she cared less what I was doing.

I walked away, and began walking alone. Not even a minute later I noticed the girls that I left behind me… Walking. I slowed down to talk to them, and they wouldn’t let me into their conversation. This was the second time in a day that I was socially outcasted. I continued to walk alone, brooding on my emotions. Another girl came in from the locker room and started walking with me. I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t look at me, said “yeah” every two seconds when I wasn’t even asking her a yes/no question, and kept looking around the room as though she was in the most monotone chemistry class there is.

Can you guess her next move? She went to join the girls that snubbed me. I heard their laughter as they told jokes and I started to tear up. Just what is wrong with me? Another girl asked me if I was okay. I told her I was just not feeling well. I don’t exactly want to disclose private struggles with the girl who incessantly questions my outfit choices, chides me about not moisturizing my skin enough, and says other snarky comments. I felt alone.

Looking back on it, it may have been a little immature of me to cry. But I don’t care about looking immature because my own feelings will always take precedence over what people may think of me. These girls are obviously the problem, not me. I will stop gracing their day with my presence (P.S., I’m as graceful as a hen typically.) if they can’t treat me with the respect I deserve. If I can decide to completely stop hanging out the people that I’ve considered my friends for a year because they’re bitches, I can do the same to others because I don’t have to be anyone’s best friend. I just need to be nice to them when I see them one class period a day.




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