Friday, September 27, 2013

Memory Share

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.

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