A 'She's All That' Moment

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Little bit of a deviation here, I'll tell a personal story from my *gasp* Teenage Years!!

When I was in 4th grade, I stopped being able to see the blackboard at school. Between 4th and 5th grade, I got some pretty daggum thick glasses. It didn't really ding my confidence in myself, because I could see again, but they were UGLY, ugly clear, plastic, giant glasses (thanks mom!) and I started to realise that around about 8th grade.

My mom let me get gold-framed, smaller lens, glasses sometime in 8th grade and while I went about my business transitioning to high school still fairly confident in myself- the glasses were starting to hurt my friendships.

Peers outright made comments about them. I found out the boy I really liked said he would never ask me out if I had disgusting glasses. My life became one huge contentious piece of cow turd because of my glasses. I literally could not get further in life socially because of them.

Somewhere around the time I was 13-14, some of the kids at my Youth Group (yes, a church-related organization) stole my purse. In my purse, I had some things that a 13 year old Me thought she needed, but they were admittedly weird out of context. But here's a small list and quick explanation:
-Like 50 Chick-Fil-A Salt Packets (school cafeteria didn't have any salt and I am ADDICTED to salt, less so twenty years later than I was then but… yeah, addict. Me.)
-A Photocopied picture of the boy I had a crush on. (I'd taken it down off of a bulletin board in the Sunday School Room and slapped it on the Xerox machine in the church hallway. I just wanted a picture of him.)
-Some cheap, Avon Jewelry (My Sunday School teacher at the time sold Avon and she would give me catalogs and I would use my allowance to order things.)

When my purse was returned to me, DAYS later, the following things had taken place:
-All of the jewelry boxes had been opened, rifled through and dumped unceremoniously back into my purse.
-The salt packets had all been thrown away.
-The photocopied picture had been dirtied, creased, and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEPEOPLE WHO TOOK MY PURSE had signed their full name and written some nasty comment. 8 signatures and nasty comments ranging from "What's up with the salt, weirdo?" "Nice Glasses" and "Stalker" to "We're going to tell him about this." No one was punished for this, they were "spoken to" about it.

That Memorial Day (not too long after the Purse Theft) I decided to try not wearing my glasses. I claimed they were broken. I was spending time at a Youth Group Function and I walked right into a screen door because I couldn't see that it was closed. Those same people mocked me and brought up the Purse Theft again.

It wasn't as if I sat around all day wishing for Laser Surgery or contacts or better glasses. I wore my gold rimmed glasses and openly scorned anyone who talked poorly about me. I went scorched Earth on everyone. Come at me with a Level 1 Insult about my glasses? I fired back at Level 10. I made sure that if I didn't have any friend because of my glasses, it was because my glasses had turned me into a huge and unwieldy bitch.

15th Birthday, I get a Birthday Card written on Lisa Frank Sationary (hoo buddy we're old) from one of the girls who participated in the Purse Theft. She's an "Abercrombie Girl" and was known for not being able to make an overnight trip without the largest suitcase known to man.
Excerpts from this note that I can't remember in detail include outright lies about how much she loved spending time with me (we never did outside of large group functions and within those had never had a conversation) and how glad she was that we were friends (we were barely acquaintances.)
Excerpts that I CAN remember from the note were, as follows, "You are so pretty without your glasses. I would love to do your make up and get you some contacts."

Apparently even on my Birthday I needed to be reminded that I am not good enough the way I am. I need to be changed before anyone will like me.


I stopped hanging out with those people very much, as people graduated high school and moved away, the Youth Group was no longer a thing.

Fast Forward to my 17th year of life. In the summer between my Junior and Senior year of high school, I got contacts. NO MORE GLASSES!! I went back to the way I remembered my face looking before I had all the hideous string of clear plastic and gold, metal round frames across my face.

I showed up to school for Open House and almost literally no one recognized me. To continue with a theme- this was me walking into my SECOND year of Chorus/Drama with the same people as last year… it'd only been two months.


AND I'D LOVE to say that my life changed from then on… that I was suddenly popular and had lots of friends etc, etc… but no.
I still had just the same friends I'd had before. I still sat at the end of the Special Education Class lunch table (honestly ya'll, they used to yell at us when THEIR friends wanted to sit with them. The Special Education Class, who really didn't know how to be purposefully mean most of them… would pull a "you can't sit with us" on me at school) and I still was accused of turning in the class drug dealer, or maybe THAT one was me.

So, Moral of the Story: An outer transformation doesn't always earn you the adoration of Freddie Prinze Jr, but honestly, have you seen FPJr lately? He's still KINDA fly but mostly just Dad Fly and so… SMG can have him.

Now, let's dance!!


via GIPHY
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