the things I wish I would've said

third grade

I had always tried to be nice since I was young. I had a younger sister - I had to be nice to her. I had a lot of neighborhood friends - I had to be nice to them. when I got into fights with anyone else, I always had to be the first one to say sorry.

why?

because that was the right thing to do.

supposedly.

so when I met her, let's call her... peggy. when I met peggy on the first day of third grade at a new school. I grinned and said hello. my mom pushed me towards her, telling me to be nice to her since she had just moved into the U.S. from South Korea only a few months ago.

I jogged up to her and held out my hand, waiting for her to shake it. she smiled and took my hand, squeezing it gently before introducing herself.

as the days went by, we became even closer friends along with another Korean girl, who I will call... sandy. my parents always nagged me about only having Korean friends and not coming out of my "comfort zone" but I didn't care then. because they were my friends.

we three were the group in third grade. the three peas a pod. the paper, rock, and scissors. the small, medium, and large.

and I thought it was okay that I was always the one tossed away pea. the paper that somehow always lost. the large that was always out of place. because they were my friends.

peggy had a special name for me - a nickname, and sandy never really had a problem with calling me that. it was in korean, so no one else would be able to understand except for peggy, sandy, another korean guy in our class, and me. directly translated into english, it meant slow-moving fatass. it was okay though - because they were my friends.

it was the recess time after lunch in april and I ran outside in my new nike running shoes my mom had bought me the week before. the two followed after me, their flip flops making a slapping sound on the concrete. as I waited beside the swings for them, I noticed the two had gotten a lot closer without me, not that I was jealous, of course. without sparing a glance at me, sandy and peggy got on the swings and began to vigorously pump their legs back and forth like any other third grader would do. one aggressive kick from peggy sent her pink and blue flip flop flying into the wood chips. finally, she looked at me and said,

"can you go get that for me?"

and of course I did. because she was my my friend.

and so the game started. they began to kick their feet up in the air, asking me to retrieve their flip flops. rules were added: I had to put their flip flops on their feet for them. patterns were to be made on the putting on of flip flops. the order in which I put on each flip flop was to be specific. within a few minutes of this so-called game, I asked a question,

"why do I have to do this?"

peggy answered back swiftly,

"because, well you see, you're the only one with tennis shoes on. and we have flip flops. you can't flip off your shoes and we can't run around in our flip flops. also, didn't you say your mom bought those for you? you shouldn't put them to waste then."

"and if I don't? what if I don't want to play this game?"

"... well... then you're fired. you're fired from this game and as our friend."

I looked at sandy for help. she had always been kind of nice to me. just kind of. however she nodded along in agreement, flicking her eyes to the ground.

so I did that for the whole recess period - with a grin on my face. because they were my friends.

days passed. words were said and also not said. rumors and lies were exchanged in hushed voices.

and I thought that was okay. because I had to be nice. I had to be the mature one. I was the responsible one. I was the one that had to be friends with everybody and nobody liked a fun-killer. they told me I was a fun-killer. and I thought that was okay, because they were my friends

and I thought I had to change, because I wasn't good enough for them. I was too fat. I was too slow. I was too stupid. I was too not-fun. I was just not enough for anyone and I had to change because they were my friends and they told me so.

my mom became worried about my frowns and sighs when I would come back from sleepovers. she probably just thought I had a fight with my friends, like any other third grader.

peggy moved back to korea after third grade. she never texted nor called. nothing. I moved houses, so I had to go to a different school. no more peggy. no more sandy. just me.

and I thought about the one year I spent in a silenced smile a long time afterwards. I still think about it now. and I was wrong then.

it was not okay. because I didn't have to be nice all the time. I didn't have to be mature. I didn't have to be responsible. I didn't have to be friends with everybody and who cared if I was a "fun-killer"? they shouldn't have, if they were my friends.

I didn't have to change, I was always good enough. I wasn't too fat. I wasn't too slow. I wasn't too stupid. I wasn't too not-fun. I was enough for myself and I didn't have to change because of anybody, especially them.

but it wasn't only their fault. it wasn't only their fault I felt self conscious in tight clothing. it wasn't only their fault that I had trouble falling asleep at night.

because it was also mine.

no, I'm not blaming it all on me 

I'm only blaming myself on two things - 

not loving myself enough to get myself out of that situation.

 and letting them think it's okay to treat people like that.

because if I had said something then, just something, it wouldn't have gone so out of hand. I wouldn't have felt that one year of hurt. I wouldn't have put myself through the forced smiles, fake laughs, none of that.

because if I had said something then, just something, they wouldn't have treated anybody else like that again. they wouldn't think it's okay to treat people like that. they wouldn't make the same dumb mistake again. 

I wish I would've said something then.

for myself.

and for them.

because they were my friends.