I don’t fit in

I don’t fit in. I don’t know if you ever felt that way, but I did.

I didn’t fit in at school. Remember when I said I was always observing others? I was shy. I tried to be a good girl, but of course, sometimes I did get in trouble. Honestly, I don’t have many great memories from my time in school. For me, it was such a fragile moment. School is crucial when forming our personalities and the concept of who we are. It was definitely going to impact me in the long run.

Don’t get me wrong, our parents are our first teachers, but they can’t ever replace the lessons that come from interacting with others, especially with other kids. And most importantly, with kids who are… not the nicest to you.

I guess people would say, „Kids are going to be kids,“ and nobody is „perfect.“ „Get over it“. But I had been raised to be polite, nice, and friendly. I wasn’t supposed to yell, to say a bad word, or to interrupt an adult. I expected the same treatment.

I remember observing, once again, and feeling confused about the „free behavior“ of other kids. I guess I took my parents‘ rules too literally. I should have known that having such a black/white mentality was not the best sign. I didn’t know better. I was a kid. My mind was wondering and labeling behaviors: oh, that wasn’t nice, oh, he didn’t do his homework, oh, she’s a little mean, they yelled at the teacher, etc.

Trying to behave and being quiet didn’t sit well with some girls in my classroom. I didn’t have quick responses. It took me a while to defend myself, so it was funny and fun for some girls to say or do mean things while seeing my raw, pure, quiet response to it all. What were they making fun of? Well, they made fun of my looks: my height, weight, skin color…you get the idea.

Words were important to me. It was the school’s sports competition week. We would play against a different class, and, of course, we all wanted to win. I remember it was time for volleyball. Sadly, by the end of the game, I couldn’t stop the ball. I felt bad. I felt sad. Remember that pressure about having to be perfect, to be the best, and to do the best? I felt it deeply after missing that ball. Then, another girl from my class got mad at me and told me I was so stupid for missing that point. I ran to the bathroom and cried. I guess this could have been an early sign of anxiety…or at least it confirmed that I really cared about words.

The more different they were in their personalities, the more alienated I felt. My parents didn’t teach me good-come-back phrases to defend myself. They forgot about that Ace under the sleeve. As a consequence, I felt very intimidated by the more extroverted girls and boys. If I was friends with one, they were to lead or guide the interaction. I was „too innocent“ to be in charge. Not sassy enough.

I remember thinking: Why do I care? Why am I so sensitive? Why am I crying? Why doesn’t she like me? Why was she mean? I don’t want to be here. I feel so lonely. I definitely don’t fit in.