That Was Then

So I read a lot of blogs, but this particular entry really touched me.

You know, it's been twenty years since junior high, and I think at least once or twice a week I think about those days. Maybe it is seeing everyone on facebook, and seeing their relationships that are so tight after so long, or the fact they have changed or have not changed or whatever. It is amazing at how you lose judgment of some of those people who tortured you on the softball field, or ridiculed you for getting straight As, or excluded you from a pool party even after they "pretended" to be friends with you for a while, at least until the popular crowd came calling. I will never forget the feeling of shame and unhappiness every June when all of the "cool kids" got invited to Julie's pool party, and I was one of a handful left out. The facebook friends even remember that when it was her birthday! I still remember being taunted by parents playing softball, or people calling me ugly and reminding me of the reasons I'd "never have a boyfriend." It is so relentless, and so difficult.

And twenty years later, I have great friends and a great husband and a great job and money and luxuries I didn't have then. And yet a part of it remains. And I described it in my comment as bittersweet, because it is. Those feelings resonate with me so many years later. And I won't justify it as silly, because it wasn't. It was not funny. It was hurtful. And one of my core beliefs is that we are responsible for our own actions, and our own reactions, ultimately. And at 14, you know the meaning of right from wrong, good from bad, hurtful and kind. And you can be brave or be a coward, or you can be generous or be selfish.

I would NEVER go back to being 12 or 13 or 14 again. I know there were kids, like Maria A., who had it so much worse than me. And all of these years later, I worry and wonder how she is. I know there were kids who escaped a lot of it, and who were neither teased not teasers. And I know some who were vicious, and I wouldn't friend them without any kind of apology. Or without one.

I do worry, if I have children and especially a daughter, how I would feel if they received the same level or any level of harassment or teasing. It would break my heart. And it is so easy to tell her you grow up, you move on, you make friends, you meet boys, you become liked and loved and happy and social. But at 12, when being lonely and without friends is one of the worst things imaginable, you can't offer that kind of reassurance because 34 or 24 or 19 are SO far off.

Yes, it does get better. But patience is demanded. I will always regret, with a feeling of bittersweet, not having happier memories from those years. Thank God for my family, because that really is the most important thing. But to a 12 or 13 or 14 year old girl, you still need more, as selfish as it is.

Twenty Years Ago II

So it struck me that my twentieth "reunion" year at St. V's is this year. Twenty years. I've written about it before a bit in the facebook context, but I have not wanted to dwell on it. I prefer to focus on the here and now. But it's two decades, and that long since I've seen those facebook "friends."

It feels like another time, another era, so long ago but there are still so many incomplete or unresolved feelings about that time. Like the cliques of popularity still exist and I'm still an outsider, even though I would never want to be "in." And I shouldn't care, right?

You always want to be popular and have friends and share memories and I feel like I don't have that before 1994 or 1990. And as much as it shouldn't matter because my life is so much more fulfilling now and I've accomplished what is important to me, but at the same time I feel....unresolved. Not like you want to confront anyone exactly. Just have acknowledgment of something they probably have never lost a single night of sleep from.

Silly. Not so.

Retro

This article talks about the re-issuance of the Baby Sitters Club series, news which even provoked a story in the New York Times. Yes, this is interesting, though I'm torn about whether the Sweet Valley High resurgence is slightly more interesting. I was definitely a fan of these books back in the late 1980s, because I was about these girls age, and hey, who didn't like baby sitting? The girls seemed like sweeter, nicer ones than the ones I was stuck going to school with, and I couldn't help thinking "Wow, Mary Ann has all of these great friends, what about me?" Sigh.

There's always the facebook-esque vindication when someone formerly athletic is crowing about being able to walk four miles. Big whoop. Maybe books like this allows our revisionist fantasies about what school was like, what friendship was like back when we were that age. Or maybe it just recalls what we hoped life was like back in the day, a fonder reminiscence of life at 13 in 8th grade, when quiet nerdy girls had boyfriends named Logan and they had lots of spending $$ to buy wardrobes far cooler than I could ever hope to attain. Where circles of friends would last.

Though gosh, how young is an 8th grader? Twenty years younger than me, and I have "friends" with daughters almost that age. I used to think that was so old and cool, and now, wow, that seems so damn young.

Fifteen Years

I've facebook-chatted the last couple of nights with old friends from HS I hadn't seen or talked to in fifteen years. So strange...in some ways it feels like I was 17 years old just yesterday, and other days it feels like it was 150 years ago. Funny those connections of those who knew you then shape you as much, or even more, than those who shape you know. I don't know why their approval or interest is so very important, but I was one person then, elements of that girl remain, and new facets of me are even more present and critical to who I am now. Not as shy but still, not an athlete but someone who can knock out five miles after work on a treadmill, not fat but confident and strong and still smart.

And there are others from your past that you don't care to update with your life. Because they still cause nightmares. They still cause you grief, they still provoke tears. And does that make me a hypocrite? No. Forgiveness and distance cures much, but not all. Not all.

Fifteen Years Later

On May 22, I celebrated my fifteen-year anniversary of high school graduation. It's funny because I don't remember very much from that day. I do remember wearing the white gown and cap, delivering a speech, that dress I wore, saying good-bye to friends and star girls and being very, very excited to be done with high school. In facebooking, there's this tendency to be very nostalgic and have all sorts of fond memories of school, like everything was wonderful and you were all such tight friends back then and there weren't crappy days or lonely days or days when you just wanted to be on your own, starting over in a new city far, far away from Detroit. Fifteen years later, you are the same person with the same regrets and the same memories but clouded by years of other stuff. You view those days through the lens of a 33 year old, with a bit of nostalgia despite it all. I think it's because you hear about Gossip Girls-esque shows where high school seems so wonderful and glamorous and money and grades and introversion and social sophistication don't seem to mean anything. You weren't terribly lonely or lacking a boyfriend or drawn in some insular world of television and dreams and wondering where life would lead you.

The curiousity about where and what some girls are up to is gone now, for some. I think the same feelings of insecurity, and of not living up to potential, and not being socially sophisticated linger. But other things, good things, happier things exist, and I can't ever wish to go back to being 18. I'm happier being 33, with a job (even this one), and a home and a husband. And friends, real ones, not ghosts on a webpage. I enjoy the here and now so much more.

Unfriended

So I've been unfriended by ANM. Yup, a few weeks later, I've been excised. No explanation why, all I can think of is she discovered my notorious political affiliation. She's added other grade school classmates. But not me. And I'm as shellshocked as I was when she added me.

How silly. How utterly silly that I care about someone I haven't been in touch with in TWENTY years. And I am not ashamed or embarrassed or anything. Why should I be?

I bought the new Real Simple which has an article about the phenomenum: "It allows people to leapfrog back to a former you, one you thought you had left behind."

Another passage: the author recounts how her friend accepted an invite from someone she had not seen since sixth grade "and found herself plunged into the social anxiety she had experienced at that age....'My memories are being invaded by other people's memories.'" "On facebook, the past is no longer distant and blurry, a source for vague wonder and speculation."

This is why I didn't want to join in the first place, I didn't want to open myself up to all of the scrutiny and insecurity and self-loathing sixth grade friendships bloomed. I don't need that in my life, not when I have 160 other friends to care about. But why do I care about the one?

Same reason why I cared about that one twenty-years ago. I didn't have one.

Last Week

Busy but good week this past week. Interesting too. Yesterday's St. Patrick's 8K went well, 42:53. It was fun to catch up with S twice in a week (after dinner Thursday at Posto). The weather was lousy, but not bad for running. I felt pretty good, if a bit winded, til the last .1 mile, when I felt a little sick. I inhaled a bagel and apple, though, and recovered quickly. Now I need to think about a 10K.

Catching up ANM (well sorta) over facebook was well, quite interesting! Wow, how do things and people change. It is ridiculous to think they would not after twenty years, but that was a pretty drastic change. I am not sure what to think about it. I am definitely thinking about her, who she was then, was there a sign, could I have told. She never did have too many boyfriends, but we were thirteen! It does make me rethink the entire "popular" crowd mentality, how people hide who they are, or avoid who they are, or act differently than who they really were. But does anyone know very much about themself at 12 or 13? I have some of those same insecurities and I don't from twenty years. It is a part of who you are, but it does not define you. I hope to hear back from her, though.

Back in the Day

So I officially am facebook obsessed. Of course that was what was going to happen. It's been odd/bizarre/surreal to reconnect with the grade school crew. I was flipping through a couple of old diaries yesterday....1987 was over twenty years ago. I was so sad, so lonely at times. So jealous and I still remember comments made to me, who was cruel and who was kind. All of those games kids play where one minute they are mean and the next manipulating a vulernable you to be their friend. How you are figuring out hormones and still mourning a good friend of yours who has moved on. I remember how much I craved a friendship then, how I could not wait to high school to escape the face that I never had a crowd of friends.

Part of reconnecting means coming to terms with the past. It's not just about showmanship, is it? It's about feeling comfortable with who you are now, forgiving of the way they treated you, lowering your expectations, and also letting go. Not just of that sense of curiousity as to wondering what they are like now and what they have been up to for the past two decades. But letting go of that part of you that still feels like she's eleven and wants to fit in, have the most friends, look the most stylish, have the most and best comments on her yearbook page. Also that yearning to be remembered. Of course, you want to make a difference. You want people to have wondered about you. But didn't want to be forgotten. That's the crux of it: it's not the comment of oh, you've met her, of course, you would not remember her. It's of course, how could I forget. Of course.

At least I can lurk, be kind, be a stronger woman then I was at eleven or twelve. But a little part of me then is still here now.

Facebook

100 friends! Whoo-hoo.

Yeah, it is a total addiction, and in a weird way it has been nice to reconnect with folks that I have not seen or spoken to in eons. It provides a window into others' lives...spy lens or what not. And when you think that it has been what, almost 15 years, since you have seen or spoken to some people, then it gets really really weird. I guess there is a natural curiosity to see how the others you grew up with ended up, where they ended up, if they are married or single or have kids or are employed. And also, discreetly, you want them to track you down, find you, find out if you are successful or married or have a family or are employed. And you want them to hunt you down instead of hunting them down, to show that yeah, after how long, you made a lasting impression.

Bitterness coming out, yes?

Facebook

So I took the plunge recently and joined Facebook. I think I am up to 57 friends, a collection of current and former colleagues, work associates, DC friends, and old classmates. It is a complete time-waster, though I am proud to say I have not resorted to cute little status updates like "I am baking pumpkin bread" or "I can't believe Stella isn't the Mother!" Though I am tempted to flesh out my profile with a little of favorite music groups and join some other random groups like "1,000,000 against an Obama presidency." Though that last thing is inevitable, right?

Anyway, my curiousity is piqued in finding out what happened to random HS people I haven't heard from in decades now, and finding out that most people from Detroit who are on facebook have something to be proud of, whether it's a beautiful family or education and a successful job. I will say the wedding definitely was a factor in my creating a profile. It is weird to even search various profiles and see what random people look like...for some, that's all I care about. Again, the losers in the group don't appear. Like suspiciously few folks from St. Veronica. Granted, demographics have proved that people in their early to mid 30s are slower on the facebook game than the young 'ens. Though I think the website is a useful tool for uploading photos and a passive way to keep in touch with a lot of people you would not otherwise have time to keep up with. Now if I can just get my brother to have regular Joey updates on a facebook page, I'd be about all set...