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My daughter had her first experience with a "mean girl" last week. My poor baby! It breaks my heart. She's one of the sweetest girls I know, and I'm not just saying that. Oh, sure, she and I butt heads often, but I'm just so lucky to have her! She's got a smile that can light up a room, she's sensitive, kind, and she's a little shy. I'm so angry with that stupid mean girl!
High school! What a complex roller-coaster ride. Same thing with college. These were some of the best, most cherished times in my life, but the good memories will always be tainted with nightmares about mean girls (and sometimes boys) who made it their mission to make some of us miserable.
There was the remark about my rear, that hitting the diving board with my butt (like we were all doing on purpose) wouldn't hurt me because I had so much padding.
For putting me on "weight probation" my sophomore year in drill (dance) team, then letting girls much bigger than I make the drill team the following year with no restriction. Was that humiliation necessary? I wasn't even fat then! I only wish I was that size again!
For those who commented on my weight, height, choice of friends, choice of boyfriend, personal choices, character, etc. here's to you, mean kids!
To the girl who tried to smother me with my pillow as a way of making fun of me for sleeping with the pillow over my head - what is your problem? (I'm serious. She was supposed to be my "sorrority sister" too!)
For the girls who laughed at me in a variety of situations. And for the ones who ostracized me becaue I wasn't rich enough, pretty enough, good enough, whatever enough.
And to the girl I knew growing up who ended up at my university, what did you accomplish by calling me B***h in front of all of my friends? And so many, many other things that I could probably go on forever.
Yes, here's to you Shannon, Tricia, Tammy, Chanda, Stephanie, Christie, Sherrie, and all the rest. (Yep, I went there - naming names!) And don't let me forget the professor who sponsored the college dance team who told me that I was one of the worst dancers on the team. Thanks. Guess my years of dance lessons were a waste.
People don't realize how much their derogatory comments hurt and how they last. There are things I will absolutely never forget no matter how hard I try. I'm grown with kids of my own, and their remarks still bother me. Maybe I'm too sensitive, but I just can't forget! And now my daughter is going to have scars, and I can't fix it.