When I was in 7th grade, I attended a portion of it in a new school. We had moved from Iowa to a new state, and though I don’t think that we stayed for the full school year, I remember that short time well, because I was pretty miserable.
I was 13 going on 14, hated that we had moved, and was unknowingly battling depression.
I didn’t have much confidence, and I definitely had no support group of friends at school; I was the new girl with no friends.
One day, very unexpectedly, I boy who sat next to me said:
“You Know, if you got any fatter and you broke your leg, you’d have to be shot”.
In case you didn’t know, cattle are often shot if they break a leg.
I never told anyone that before.
I didn’t want my parents to love me less, and they might if they knew what everyone else saw when they looked at me.
I was so stunned; I still remember the heat in my cheeks. I didn’t say anything back to him. I hadn’t developed a mouth yet, I was shy, sensitive, and alone.
I just wanted to write that because it sucked for me, and I thought it would be therapeutic to get it off my chest…a secret shame that I don’t want to hold onto anymore, so I relieve myself of the burden by setting it free here.