Catch

I haven’t had any really close friends since I was eight. It was the first time I moved away and started a new school. I was actually looking forward to going somewhere new. When I went in and met my new teacher I was enthusiastic; in my naïve 8-year-old’s world view I didn’t have a worry or a care that anything would go wrong.  On my very first day a girl was helping me take footballs out of a net at recess. Suddenly I heard her say something like "Catch!" When I looked up there was a football flying right into my face. I saw stars. It was almost like that episode of The Brady Bunch where Marcia gets hit in the face with a football. Except, after the pain had subsided and I came back to my senses, there were no apologies. She was pointing and laughing as if she had just told the world’s funniest joke. I had no idea what to do or what to think. I just stood there, stunned. I can still feel the sting at the back of my nose and my eyes starting to water when I think about it. I entertained the thought that maybe she didn’t mean to do it, but she was standing less than two feet away from me. So I sucked it up and, oddly, perhaps stupidly, I smiled back at her as if it were my fault that I didn’t catch it. I never mentioned it to anyone. That would have only made it worse.

I soon became vaguely aware that I was not up to "normal" standards at this new school. I was getting kind of chubby and I didn’t care that the clothes I wore weren’t new, that my plastic Beauty and the Beast lunchbox was out of style, or that everything I liked was "stupid." The other kids seemed to care though. So that counted me out of Acceptanceville. It didn’t help that I also started wearing glasses by my third year there. So I decided to keep my head down and stay quietly unnoticed, which led to painful shyness. I wasn’t teased or taunted often, but I knew the threat of it loomed just above me if I somehow managed to stick my neck out. Other kids who were braver than me did, but I saw what happened to them and I was not interested in arguing, fighting, or defending myself. I took everything that was thrown at me with a smile or indifference.

School wasn’t an unrelentingly bad experience; I made good grades and never got into trouble. But I hated recess, when everyone was let loose and the group distinctions became clear. Sometimes there would be a group to play with or I would get invited to a friendly game of Red Rover because they needed more players. For the most part it was a gamble, and I usually just wound up waiting for it to be over. Of course I didn’t realize it at the time, but I began to withdraw from interaction with people almost completely, or as much as I possibly could. I didn’t understand them, and I didn’t want to. By the time I reached the seventh grade I asked to be homeschooled and my wish was granted. It was my dream to become a hermit. Content to be by myself, I wrote off the general population as shallow, stupid, and insincere. It’s not a decision I regret. I really did enjoy doing things by myself without all the work of trying to "interact" with someone who was going to pick me apart for not being just like them. 

When I started college after moving once again I didn’t have any expectations, but I kept my head down anyway and it worked in keeping everyone at arm’s length. Although I noticed that everyone was a lot nicer and looked for things we had in common instead of what we didn’t. Soon I started to regain some confidence and not feel so "outcast"; and, ironically, I got the part of the popular cheerleader, Cherry, in the school’s production of The Outsiders. I’m not nearly as shy as I used to be but it’s still difficult to get out of my generally negative mindset about people. I have made very few friends because of this, and, except for my boyfriend and brother, none of them are close. It honestly doesn’t bother me though. I don’t really know where I’m going with this other than to say I’m a recovering misanthrope who may have been overly sensitive growing up. I don’t think I will ever be a real “people person” who has lots of friends and social engagements but I don’t aspire to be one. I’m content being who I am right now, whether it’s "normal" or not.