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As I’m trying to get through fourth grade, including math, which just about destroyed me, I’m also trying to understand what’s happening with my classmates.
Girls started to have boyfriends. And all the girls cared about their clothes so much. I had no idea how to keep up with them, and I was trying to figure out how to fit in without giving in. I was astounded that the girls even knew about fashion. That they knew how to curl their hair. And used hairspray. And make-up. How’d they learn that? When did they learn that? I wasn’t ready to care about boyfriends, fashion trends, or spending the weekends at the mall. I mean, we were only nine and ten years old. Doesn’t that seem a little young to you to be worried about this stuff? |
And while the boys — and my childhood crush — sometimes let me play kickball, dodgeball, or baseball, I could tell I was doing the wrong thing. I lived in a constant state of anxiety — Would the boys let me play with them at recess? If not, would they girls let me into their circle since I hadn’t yet conformed to their way of doing things?
School became even harder to attend. It was a place that wasn’t safe for me. I couldn’t be who I wanted to, and I had no friends. Not really.
So, now, my dislike of school is no longer funny. It’s just sad. Because while my teachers still plagued me with mind-numbing assignments and lectures, what was worse was the social ostracization.
I got really quiet that year. Really, really quiet.
I watched. And I tried to learn.
But…still…I spent most of my fourth grade year on my own.
I’m sorry for the sad post, but, it’s what happened. We all have those times that are harder, and we can’t deny they happened. We also can’t use them as a reason to ALWAYS be sad. But that is something I learned as I got older. (And it’s also for another post.)
I can tell you that I’m just fine now, that things did get better. But it took a few years, because, you know, I’m stubborn.