True Confessions

Most people have dirty little secrets that they have never shared and plan on never sharing with anyone else. I'm not talking about secrets that your friends have that you guys keep on each other, but your own secrets...the deep and dark kind.
Well, I'm going to expose mine tonight. For starters, I've been keeping a hit-list since I was in the sixth grade. This isn't a list of people I have any intention of actually "hitting" or killing, for that matter. But this is a list of people some day, if I go to my high school reunion and they aren't present, I will look up and see where life has really taken them. This is a list of people I thought were either seriously nasty and mean, or I thought would end up having a REAL hit-list of their own. On this list, I also seperately kept names of people I thought were really nice, but weren't ever given a chance socially.
Today, I spent my morning going through old paintings I created, old photographs and old journals I kept. That's when I came across the list.
The list begins with my first serious crush...Jeff. I was obsessed. He sat by me because our last names were so close in the alphabet. He played soccer and was "popular" with the "cool" kids...the group I never got into because all the kids thought I was hispanic...which is about the equivalence of being black here in Plano. Of course, I'm NOT hispanic, or black...but what does that matter anyway.
Junior high was a challenging time for me. This was a time, I'd say I truly learned what I'm made of and yet denied all that I came to know as true. I was a straight-A student, honor society, athletic and good at all the sports I was involved in. I was a team-player, a nice girl, a fun, yet deep, and a friend to all, though not popular.
Oh well. I think that the fact I wasn't popular growing up always bugged me. I kept so many aspects of who I truly am hidden and locked up inside because I worried too much about what others thought. It took me going to war and being the only woman in my platoon to overcome that mentality.
Next on my list was in junior high, this girl Lauren. We were friends, but it wasn't widely known. She was popular, a cheerleader; everyone liked her. She was the only popular kid that didn't care about what the other popular kids thought about the other kids. She's the one that back then asked me if I was a lesbian, and told me that it didn't matter either way to her, I would still be her friend. I told her I wasn't. I was still young and clueless. She helped me realize that some people in this world are real followers of Christ.
Then there's Natalie. I actually ran into her a year ago at the gym when I was home for 2 weeks from Iraq. I got to find out that she's in law school down at UT. She was another nice girl. Actually, she was the only popular girl that was in the gifted program (which I was also in). She took me seriously. She was about the only person that took me seriously; largely my fault because I denied being "gifted" and acted like a moron to cover it up. And when my parents beat the living crap out of me when I was in 2nd grade and I had to lie to the school so I wouldn't go into foster care...she stood by me...realized I wasn't a liar and knew why I had to lie while no one else did. I hope she goes into pro bono work.
Then there's Connie. She was "the fat girl". That's what everyone called her. She was a kid that lived in my neighborhood and rode my bus. She had no friends...none until me. Connie hated me at first. I didn't like her either, but I mean...she HATED me. She used to poke fun at me everyday on the bus. I was always nice and all the kids always liked me, thought I was nice. But Connie hated me for some reason. Looking back, I think it was because it was easy for her to take anger out on me that she did. I was always such a push-over...until one day. Connie was making fun of me insessently this one day for no apparent reason. I couldn't take it anymore and when she turned around to poke fun at me again, I punched her in the nose. It imediately started gushing blood...I mean REALLY gushing blood. The whole bus began applauding me and making fun of her for having picked on me so much. I felt really bad and gave her napkins and ice from my lunch box. And then I did something I would have never expected...I got off the bus at her stop with her, and walked her home. Then I spent that afternoon getting to know her and her family. I apologized profusely and left that night having a new friend.
She moved in high school and we didn't keep in touch. I wonder what became of her.


to be continued...