The girl who….

In my last post I mentioned how I had shed some skin while I was traveling, A.K.A. my past. Now I want to shed some light on what I meant. Living in the same place your whole life, while having many advantages, has many disadvantages. Friends I had growing up LOVED the idea of staying put. They wanted to be “townies” like their parents were. To be honest the thought made me throw up in my mouth a little. That was the last thing I wanted. Also the last thing I wanted- to be labeled. I felt like I was walking around with a bunch of labels stuck all over me. Everyone knew too much about me. Everything from my past felt so present.  No matter what changes I made, I was always going to be the girl who…

I was the girl from Chelsea. The girl who lost her belief in God or any higher being for that matter when she lost her grandmother. I was the girl who failed gym because she was too shy to run.

I was the girl who got shoved in the locker room in seventh grade by a beastly eighth grader. She had heard I called her a bitch (I hadn’t). For one, I was the new girl in school and didn’t really know who she was and second, I was the new girl in school and wouldn’t call anyone of that size anything for fear of exactly what was happening. I was saved by an equally massive eighth grader just in the nick of time who I believe was friendly with my sister.

I was the girl they called anorexic.

I was the girl who got shunned and bullied in eigth grade by a group of kids. Led by two girls I once was friends with, I was tormented through the halls, called vicious names and was afraid to leave my classrooms. All because I was liked by a boy. I cried every day until I refused to go to school and my parents had to talk to the principle.

I was the girl they thought was a snob.

I was the girl who finally got taken in by a new group of friends in highschool only to end up losing them after highschool. What made this loss so devastating was that after my terrible experience in middle school I lost a lot of confidence and self esteem. This group of friends gave a lot of that back to me, I felt accepted, liked and important. They gave me a sense of worth that I was lacking. It appeared as though the friendships I built with these three girls would last our whole lives. When I started losing those relationships I realized they weren’t  just taking their friendship away, they took all I got from it with them. I lost friends physically but mentally I lost much more. They signified so much to me and that loss was so traumatic that till this day I struggle with it at times.

I was the girl who cut herself.

I was the girl who went crazy my senior year over a breakup. I flipped out at parties, screamed and cried. I called my ex’s new girlfriend and begged her to leave him unless she truly loved him which I knew she couldn’t possibly. I left all our prom pictures in his mailbox, I sat around the corner from his house crying hysterically in my car. I threw out everything and anything that had to do with him. I sent him the poems I wrote about him. I wrote him letters. Years later I still wrote him letters. Years later I still could not move on. I went to therapy specifically to help me get over it.

These trajedies and losses were hanging over me like a storm cloud, they followed me everywhere. When I wasn’t thinking about them I was dreaming about them. Everywhere I looked I was reminded of them between houses I drove passed and people I bumped into. While in reality those people probably weren’t thinking about it ever, I felt every time they saw me, they were remembering-that’s the sad girl, the depressed girl, the crazy girl. Deep down I knew it was my own perception of myself that had to change. Nevertheless, I couldn’t escape it here. This was where it all happened. This was where those memories lived. Now, I should say that it isn’t as if all these years later I am still walking around with anger built up inside me. I am not holding grudges against an ex from when I was 17 or mean girls in middle school or old friends in highschool. I am not thinking about this daily, weekly or even monthly. I worked hard to be a successful adult who isn’t seeking revenge on a 12 year old brat. But in the rare moments when I am reminded of them there are still small pangs of hurt.  I surprise myself sometimes with the feelings that bubble up after over a decade has passed but then I remind myself I suffered through these events and their aftermaths for well over that.

As a 32 year old I feel a little embarrassed to admit that these things that happened to me so long ago still effect me. I should be able to let them go, they should be old news- silly, insignificant, typical school drama.  Like, grow up already! But it took me years to be able to talk about these events without crying not to mention a ton of therapy. They will always be old scars however shrinking and faded.

Living back here I am reunited with the person who endured those hardships. When I was on the road I felt weightless without the heaviness of those labels. I felt like I finally had a chance to be myself, the me I was without all the clutter of being something I didn’t want to be. I wasn’t the pathetic girl who lost all her friends. Twice. I wasn’t the girl who couldn’t get over her heartbreak for years. I wasn’t someone ‘s old best friend, or an easy target. I wasn’t the underdog or athletically challenged. I wasn’t tragically damaged. I wasn’t the hairdresser or the wanna be writer. On the road I wasn’t depressed, I was happy. I wasn’t crazy, I was calm, I wasn’t timid, I was bold. On the road I could be known for being fearless, adventurous, and brave. I was a mountain biker, a camper, and a hiker. I was a minimalist and free spirited. I was optimistic and funny. I was undaunted, uninhibited, and liberated. That’s who I was. It is who I am.

 

Leaving the hurt behind

Grey skies turned blue
Small skies turned big
Dark skies turned starry
Straight roads began to curve
Highways gained elevation
I got further and further away from you
Mean words taunting
Calling me out
Calling me names
A child in a mean girls world
You didn’t follow me there
Green turned brown
Brown turned red
Sun got stronger
Nights grew quieter
The air was cleaner
You didn’t follow me there
Best friends turned enemies
You made me feel accepted
Then you left me out
I left you back there along with my lack of worth
States grew fewer but larger
Rivers and lakes were clearer
Mountains were taller
I achieved new heights
You didn’t follow me there
First love
Worst love
Heartbreak is too tender a word
Heartbreak does not last eight years
That’s depletion
I didn’t need therapy, I needed saving
Too stubborn to leave me
I left you

You didn’t follow me out there
You wouldn’t have lasted a minute
In the bare bones of solitude and minimalism
You require too much
I was reborn
I left you where you were conceived
And you didn’t know any routes out
You couldn’t read the maps
You needed protection
There wasn’t any of that out there
The wide open scared you
Mountains made you feel small
Uninterrupted skies made you feel insignificant
Made you feel less than
The journey made you feel weak
The journey made me strong
I traveled further and further away from you
I climbed higher and higher away from you
I drove faster and faster away from you
I set my eyes on a new horizon
I found peace away from you
I grew taller and taller away from you
I stood on solid ground away from you
I was fearless away from you
I found myself more and more away from you
I was myself
Away from you

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