I like to believe that I’m becoming more mature. That I’m starting to see the difference between want and need. That I’m outgrowing my spoiled nature. I’m a person that wants to take only what I need and give what others need, as well. I like to put people in need first when I can because it fulfils me in a way nothing else can. Becoming a philanthropist would be a dream come true for me. All of this being said, it is logical to consider me a caring, kind person. My actions today prove otherwise; they make me feel disgusted and disappointed with myself.
In class, a girl was talking about the princess TV she had when she was six. For some odd reason, I felt the urge to tell the class about my purple Bratz TV that I could play Plug n’ Play video games on. Later in the class period, the girl talked about how her room was so large, she had a king sized bed when she was little. I had to tell the class that even though my room was small, I had a room fit for a princess. The girl then told everyone she had two bedrooms now. I went on to tell the class that I would be having my own apartment soon, which was partially a lie (long story, will talk about later). Somehow, I was satisfied with everyone’s dumbstruck expression. I asserted myself as the ultimate spoiled girl.
Why am I proud of being spoiled?, I asked myself. It really is a terrible thing and it is against all of my morals. Me acting out in such an immature manner promotes the ideas that I am trying to avoid. I strongly believe that money is not everything but yet I pride myself on the things money can buy. I knew that the bewilderment of my classmates may have been some jealousy, but I also know that some of them lost respect for me, which I honestly deserve. No one should be so focused on material items or make a competition out of it.
There was a reason for my behavior. It was the remainder of a childhood grudge. This girl was always everything I wanted to be skinny, blonde, attractive to the boys, and most of all, spoiled. She wore a three hundred dollar dress in the local Little Miss pageant when we were five years old. She had a cell phone when we were six. By the time we were eight, she had pretty Nikes and the best clothes from stores like Abercrombie and Aeropostale. Her exhibits of materialism only grew exponentially as we aged. The girl also bullied me, which only made matters worse. I believed there was a concrete divide between her and me, one that I’d never be able to cross unless I became like her.
Looking back on what resulted, I feel bad for my mother. She must not have liked the situation I put her in too much. She could either buy me the fancy shoes I wanted, that cost a lot of money, or she could watch my self confidence suffer. Even if she got me what I wanted, it would only help keep me at bay. I didn’t feel happy with myself. Lacking self-contentment and getting everything I wanted only made me conceited and egotistical. I expected everything to come to me and stopped working for things. I became her in flesh and blood.
Basically, my actions today confused me. My unusually spoiled behavior brought up a haunting past that I almost forgot about. Though I feel terrible for acting so childish, it may be for the best. I shouldn’t forget the experiences that made me think the way I do.