Ice Queen

III. change

AN: okay, so I guess I realized that my writing is kind of all over the place when it comes to central idea. thanks, english class, for making me overthink everything. on that note, i hope this chapter makes sense, enjoy <3
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Everything has begun to blur together in my mind regarding my childhood. I can no longer describe meaningless events in detail like I once could, unfortunately. The joys of aging.
However, as I began to become less of a child and more of a teenager, there is one day in particular I remember.
My twelfth birthday.
I remember it rather vividly, though, in all reality, it was a rather normal day. I recall it being sunny, which was greatly appreciated in a time when bike riding was the greatest activity known to man.
It wasn't incredibly special, nor incredibly boring. I didn't have an extravagant party either.
Of course, my parents celebrated with me, as did Andrew. Presents were in the picture, but it wasn't the experiences of the day that truly make this day stand out in my life. I suppose I do remember it for rather different reason than would be expected.
Midday, a sudden realization had struck me like lightning. Perhaps I remember it because of the sheer suddenness of the thought. It's a realization I feel that all adolescents have at some point; it was almost an awakening.
For a moment, I'd faced the facts for what they were.
I wasn't 10 years old anymore, nor was I 11. I was close to finishing my first year of the Middle Levels, nearly in my seventh year of school as a whole. I was allowed to have my own cell phone, and best of all, I could access the 'Teen Section' of the library. I wasn't a young child anymore, I was getting closer to the freedom I'd read about book characters having and craved for years. Soon enough, I'd be as old as Nancy Drew, and look what she was doing with her time.
I began to have the mentality that soon enough, I'd have to start deciding what my life would be and who I was.
Intense thoughts for a 12 year old, I know. But it was the truth that went unrecognized by many others.
I was way ahead of my time, but nevertheless, my mindset had been changed. I didn't prioritize going outside to play with the neighbors anymore, though I did still indulge in those activities. I decided I needed to read more, work even harder on my school things, and make my own decisions. In fact, I believe it annoyed my parents how independent I decided I wanted to be.
I wasn't completely alone in these thoughts of taking control of my life, though a good portion of my peers had focused on something much more superficial than purpose and destiny.
All around me, I heard the same things from every girl my age. The same desire seemed to resonate within all of them.
Being at the still impressionable age I was, I started to pick up the same desire.
I began to desire to improve what I looked like.
I'd entered the years of my life where everyone wanted to look older than they were. No more pigtails. Girls did their own hair in the morning. Picked out their own clothes. Tried to wear makeup. The boys tried to impress the girls and their friends. It was a strange time of young people pretending they were adults.
Everyone, of course, was still awkward and no one was comfortable in their own skin. The makeup girls (even some boys) wore was to try and cover up the new dreaded spots on their faces. The boys began to all dress the same to reach a norm that took little time to establish.
Everyone was uncomfortable and scared to even speak of how uncomfortable they were. There was something all of us found wrong in ourselves. I was particularly unhappy with my hair and my weight.
But that wasn't all.
A habit became common amongst my peers- the habit of putting others down to try and make oneself feel better. Establishing superiors and inferiors is a way to put it. It was a poor attempt to become happier with one's own self.
I was one of the inferiors, which may come as a surprise given where I've climbed to in the past.
Now, as I've mentioned before, I'm not claiming to have a terrible childhood that ultimately leads up to how I am now. I'm not a sob story, nor do I try to present myself as one.
But it is simple fact that I was not immune to teasing in school.
It became adolescent custom to pick at those who aren't the same as everyone else, or not close enough to "perfect", with the ultimate goal to try and feel more normal.
Custom doesn't justify it, but that seems to be why generation after generation is filled with kids who become hurtful no matter what they were like before. You'll hear about it from parents, grandparents, and great grandparents alike. Peer judgement has been around since the beginning, but it becomes nuanced when kids have grown up enough to notice when someone isn't like them, and consider this a problem.
So yes, I was a victim of teasing. I don't like to use the word bullying, as I feel that word has connotations that didn't apply to my situation and allow for incorrect assumption.
I was, I admit, a rather perfect victim to be picked on.
I was short, rather chubby, and way too clever to go unnoticed. All of this was "bad" to the classmates I had, because it wasn't like them.
The worst part of it was the fact that I didn't notice what was going on.
Though I was book smart, my instincts for conversation and socialization were lacking. I was too naive. I thought that my classmates were joking when they called me a nerd; I believe I saw it as a compliment. But their true intentions were hurtful, as Andrew pointed out. He couldn't let me go on in my ignorance.
Naturally, social approval is a human desire. And as soon as I realized that I didn't have said approval, I sunk into myself and lost all naive confidence that I possessed.
I became the child that sits in the library at recess, reading books that were way past my maturity. Books were really my only escape.
I tell of all of this not to evoke sympathy. I'm recounting the tale of my youth. Yes, it hurt. Yes, it damaged my self esteem.
But I survived. I'm not going to tell some fantastic story about how I proved them all wrong (though, i technically did) to show you that social mobility is possible. I do not want sympathy, or applause. None of this is rhetoric.
I suppose if you were to have a takeaway from this, if you so desire one, is that I learned that not everyone was going to like you, or be your friend.
There were days when I tried to fake sick so I could avoid being called, in no uncertain terms, a smartass. There were days I wanted to disappear, days I felt like authors long passed were the only people I had, aside from Andrew, my only friend. But life went on. That is my true purpose of this, I suppose. Life goes on.
By the time I turned 14, I'd lost many of the 'friends' I thought I had in Early Levels. At that point, it didn't bother me as much. I was older. I looked different. I grew up. I changed. I learned who my real friends were.
I learned who I could depend upon, learned what I valued. Of course, this was only the beginning of the discoverance of values. The foundation, if you will.
Change was not something I was ever particularly fond of. It has remained that way for my whole life. I admit that I abhor change now, hence the partial explanation of my actions in the last 12 months.
But even I cannot deny that change shaped me for who I am. Eventually, the ridiculous teasing and taunting ultimately died away as I began to focus on who I decided I would be.
I grew up. I became who I wanted to be.
In the end, I have decided that ultimately what felt like the worst bits of my life were for the better.
Change has purpose, and life goes on.