I've always been fairly solitary, and books have always been my savior. When I was little, I was ostracized from school and the friends I did have ignored me at school because they didn't want to be seen with me.
I remember making up stories in the corner of the playground next to the building's chimney (which is now demolished, sadly, because I'd like to sit in that corner now). In high school, I jumped cliques not because I wanted to, but because I'd get pushed out of them. I always thought the next step would be my savior: high school, then college, then abroad... but after all of that pain, I decided finally that I'm an outsider.
As my mom said this month (and I completely think this is the best way to describe it): FROM KINDERGARTEN TO THE GRAVE.
Last week, I wrote my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Ollmann, and thanked her for telling me it was okay to be who I was and encouraging me. I told her that I always remembered a sign she had - one of those dippy signs that said something along the lines of "You make your own destiny." And I thanked her for putting up that sign and encouraging my writing and realizing that I was a social outcast for no reason other than my classmate's cruelty.
Speaking of that cruelty, the Jackster & I were watching the 1am replay of Oprah, and this woman (also named Jackie) who had been really really deformed by a drunk driver forgave the driver's mother for doing that too her. Jackie said that she wasn't sure if she was capable of forgiving someone like that.
There was a girl in elementary school, Chyannye (sp?) who THREW ROCKS at me on my walk home when we were in third or fourth grades... (I kept walking with my back straight and my head down - I don't remember it, but my mom saw part of it since we lived across the street from a block-wide park at that time)... and this girl also made the whole school think I was a lesbian my junior year of high school.... because I was protecting my friend that was a lesbian (she asked me out - I told her nicely no, and then confided to a friend who totally wasn't a friend, etc...)... and essentially made my life even worse.
This girl shows up at MY HOUSE my freshman year of college to go hunting with my FAMILY because she's dating my cousin. I'm in the bath when she gets there and know exactly who she is and what she's doing there. My mom is being really nice and she asks how I am, etc. I come out, say I'm doing just fine, have a cup of coffee with the girl, and she has the nerve in front of my mother to joke about teasing me in high school and how she never really meant it. A more serious apology later (when my mom was in the other room ,cleverly eavesdropping) and I forgave her. Even waved her "Are you sure?" off.
I told this story for the first time when I was playing Margot in THE DIARY OF ANNE FRANK, to my fellow cast members when we were bonding, and answering the question "Have you personally ever been persecuted?" All of them cried but me, and I'll remember the stricken look on my friend Andy's face for the rest of my life (he lived in the next town - we didn't meet until college).
But how this all ties together. I was thinking about what Reid said (and jackie had said something about this to me too a few weeks back) about how I depend on guys for my self-worth. And while that's not entirely true, I was always boy crazy and had a fantasy of finding Mr. Right just like the other girls. I never wanted to get married, but I always imagined myself (and still imagine myself) living with people for durations of time and then breaking up and moving on.
So I guess I'm looking for another Todd right now. For a little while, it seemed my puzzle was complete - in Todd, I found a friend and a lover, someone different enough to keep me interested and challenged but also someone who seemed relatively in tune with me. Essentially, someone to share my life with. But what I realize now is that Todd was never really in tune with me. The real me anyway - which my friends are to various degrees.
But what's funny (and Reid & Jack's observations) is that I'm slowly discovering I don't need that. I can be happy alone. Although I love guys - and part of me DOES find a night that I don't get a number a vast disappointment - they've been real assholes lately.
And I feel like I can wait around for someone who will treat me well rather than:
- Stand me up (which happened today!!!!! And although I'm as insulted as anyone would be, I'm also kind of happy to avoid first-date jitters, especially since he was somebody I met online - Reid, this is Thomas, the MFA student from Columbia).
- Take my number at a bar and never call (editor from Miramax)
- Go out for drinks, kiss and never call/email again (Rich, the Jimmy Neutron-look alike PR guy)
- Go out on two or three dates, call me all the time, email at work and then drop off the face of the planet (David, the one-testicle carrying Puerto Rican)
- Tell me you love me and want to marry me and then dump me on my bday(Todd...... even though I love him, that was a horrible thing to do) whose new thing is to call me when he's drunk to talk about how miserable he is (without mentioning this is because he dumped me - which is my secret hunch) and then texting me the next day to make sure he wasn't an asshole.
So I hope that this gave new insight to why I'm dependent on guys. Lack of social structure/support = dependency on sex to gain acceptance & apprecation. I'm a classic textbook case, if I do say myself.
I was so much better at being a manipulative maneating slut
(meg in the high school and early college years, may she rest in peace)
2 comments:
I didn't mean anything bad by it! You had lots of friends in college!!
Excellent, love it! » » »
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