"Why would he have a crush on her?"

I was a late bloomer.

When I was a senior in high school, I was hanging out with my best friend and one of our guy friends. This guy friend revealed to us that one of his friends had a crush on me, and that this friend wouldn't stop talking about me.

His friend was never really on my radar, but I felt so flattered and special and amazing just to have someone have a crush on me.

But right after our guy friend told us this, my best friend laughed and said, "Wait, why would he have a crush on her?"

We both called her out and told her that that was an extremely rude thing to say to me.

She laughed and said, "Sorry, sorry." She paused and looked me up and down. "But like actually, why? I don't get it." 

She didn't say this in a mean, mocking way. She said it as if it was obvious that one would be baffled that someone would have a crush on me, and that we were all on the same team of cracking the case of why anyone could possibly consider me attractive. 

I wish I could say that after this interaction we immediately stopped being friends, but that didn't happen.

We both went to college. I eventually got a boyfriend. She got a thousand boyfriends, like always. And we gradually drifted apart. That's how it goes, I suppose.

"I don't have time for your depression."

"I have enough going on in my life. I don't have time for your depression."

- A very good friend who I'm no longer friends with.

"We could braid our hair!"

I went to a small country school growing up. It was sheltered and isolated, much like my childhood and thoughts. Everything was so innocent and candid. 

One day in first grade, three college students (two male and one female) came to speak to us about drugs. 

The put us into groups, and all of the girls were place with the female college student.

She didn't have any hair. At that age, I didn't know what things like cancer or alopecia were. 

She asked us what we could do with our friends at a sleepover instead of doing drugs. Without thinking, I raised my hand and said, "We could braid our hair!" 

I realized what I said a second too late and saw the look on her face. Never had I felt so stupid, so inconsiderate, so ashamed. Nothing will ever take away how loathsome I felt that day.

I'm 22 years old now. That memory stick will me and will never go away.

"You're good, but not great."

I'm a singer.

I've been singing since third grade, and I'm pursuing a career in vocal music education after high school.

In eighth grade, I was dating my first boyfriend. He and I had met in choir class. One day at the end of the year, we were texting, just speculating about high school and all, and got up the courage to ask him whether or not he thought I would make the top choir in high school.

I'll never forget his response.

"Maybe. I mean you're good, but not great, so I really don't know." 

It wasn't just the fact that he was supposed to be a supportive boyfriend to me and he wasn't, but he basically shot down everything I loved and believed about myself.

I broke up with him a few months later. 

Two years after that, I finally started to take voice lessons. The next year, I finally made it into the top choir, as a junior.

This year, I'm auditioning for six colleges, and I still haven't forgotten what he said to me when I was fourteen.

I don't know if I'm good enough. No matter how much my private lesson teacher reaffirms that I am good and I am ready to sing in college, I can't believe her.

I am here.

I was standing in the kitchen at my boyfriend's house, telling him about my plans to go to Oregon State for physical therapy. He laughed and said, "Okay, when you drop out because it's too hard, you can come live with me."

Three years later, I am now in my freshman year as a kinesiology major at Oregon State. I graduated from high school with an honors diploma, and I am loving college.

For almost two years after he and I broke up, I struggled with feeling useless and stupid, because he put me down so often and so subtly that it snuck into every part of my life.

Today, I say look at me now. I am here.

"She'll order the most expensive thing."

When I was ten, my dad took my older sister and me to visit our other sister and her husband in California.

My sister and her husband took us out to eat, and as I was perusing the menu (which was full of unfamiliar items), I heard my one sister whisper to the other, "Watch: she'll order the most expensive thing."

Which I then unintentionally proceeded to do, because I could no longer see the menu through the tears in my eyes.

I am now fifty years old, and that story pretty much sums up the relationship I have with my much older sisters.

"I don't care what they say!"

Last year I was dumped by someone I was madly in love with. I was sure he was my soulmate and we'd end up married.

After he broke up with me, I fell into a deep depression and I messed with my hair. I turned my long brown curly locks into a turquoise mohawk. 

Everyone told me I looked ridiculous. No one knew why I was depressed or that I even was depressed, so they didn't understand why I'd done it.

One day in the car, my mom was going on and on about how bad it looked. Suddenly, my four-year-old old niece looked up at me and said, "Well I don't care what they say! I think you look cute!" 

I almost cried on the spot.

"He said that you were annoying."

When I was in eighth grade, there was a seventh grade boy I considered to be my best friend. He was widely popular, so I'm sure lots of people considered him their best friend, but with me, it was different. He was so, so sweet to me and helped me through really tough times in my life. 

The year was drawing to a close, my grades were poor, and I really didn't feel I was ready for high school, so I was considering having myself held back for another year. This would mean my friend and I would be in the same grade! I couldn't wait to tell him.

But before I got the chance to tell him I might be staying another year, a mutual friend of ours told me that she had already told him herself.

"Oh? What did he say?" I eagerly asked.

She looked down at her seat. She knew how close to him I was.

"Well...he wasn't very happy about it."

Thinking he was disappointed in me for staying back a grade, I laughed and asked why not.

She looked me right in the eyes and said, "He...he said you were annoying."

It felt like my whole world was collapsing around me. He was all I had.

Later when I texted him about it, his only response was, "We were never really friends in the first place."

I didn't end up getting held back because my test scores were too high, but I still replay this memory over and over. 

 

Surprise Lisp.

Freshman year of high school, I was super nervous about meeting new friends.

At lunchtime, I introduced myself to a cute boy.

I said "Hey I'm Kristen" and, instead of introducing himself to me, he mocked me by saying, "You're Krithten?"

I didn't even know I had a lisp until that moment.

Now I am acutely aware of and very self conscious of the way I sound when I talk.

Maybe that's why I don't talk often.

Horse Girl.

Anyone who knows me knows I love horses. A lot. I tell everyone. I'm you're typical equine obsessed girl. (Well, woman now)

The other obvious thing about me is I have big front teeth with an overbite. About an inch over at least. Its not like I can't close my lips together, but I do have to put slight effort into it. 

When I was in middle school and high school, people would call me a horse. 

"You look like a horse!" 

"You have horse teeth!"

Some people would neigh at me.

It was to the point that if someone said "horse" loud enough, I'd instinctively turn to see if someone was calling me. 

After a while, all I could do was take it as a compliment. I had no other option. They were calling me what I loved, after all. Why wouldn't I want to be a horse? I do. If I could actually be one, I'd be happier than being here. 

So I would just smile and nod, or neigh back. It always hurt. It never stops hurting. But ever since I stopped taking it as an offense and learned to think of it as a pathetic compliment, it's been easier to cope with.