Echoes

I don't know why it still gets to me after all these years. Why it still has the power to hurt me. It shouldn't. It was a long, long time ago. But every once in a while, it creeps back.

I didn't do anything. I was an innocent...okay, maybe not innocent. I'd seen too much by the age of ten to really ever look at anything with completely innocent eyes. But I'd never done anything to anyone.

So a few weeks ago on Myspace, I saw someone I used to kinda know. Someone I'd had a little crush on. His name is Javier. So I friended him...wondering if he'd remember me. He did, and he accepted my friend offer. And so the little emails of re-aquaintance started. It was nice, finding that he'd noticed me. Remembered me. Even though we were mostly passing friends. His younger brother knew me better.

And then came those words..."I remember you. You seemed sweet. I never could understand why the girls never liked you. Must've been a high school thing." Those words, those hurtful words...always the bane of my existence since I was a little girl. I never understood what it was I'd done, or didn't do...that made girls dislike me so much. I never stole their boyfriends. I was always nice. I didn't get catty or gossipy. And yet I was never really accepted.

When I was in high school I ran into this girl Amy. I thought she and I were friends. I hadn't seen her since I transferred Jr High's back in 6th grade. She stopped and talked to me. And she told me "We all hated you back then." I didn't understand and asked why...they'd always been nice to me. Her response? "It was never anything you did. We just didn't like you. But we knew better than to be mean, you had all the boys."

I didn't get it. I guess I still don't. I was a tomboy back then. Those boys she was talking about considered me one of them. I love sports, I'm more comfortable in jeans, I don't primp in front of the mirror, I wear little to no make up. I never stole their boyfriends. If anything, more often than not, I played match maker.

And yet the cycle was clear...and has been repeated for most of my life. They're nice to my face, and grind the axe in my back when I turn. I know it now. I'm not as naive. It only hurts sometimes. If they'd only known. I was and still am...just one of the guys. And oddly enough, I maybe should be grateful. I didn't suffer from a lot of the same types of self esteem issues that most of the girls my age did. I was comfortable in my own skin. I didn't worry about being too fat or being flat or if boys noticed me. I knew I was smart. I knew I was loved by the few friends I let in. I knew I could be anything I wanted to be and do anything I wanted to do. I knew early just how much of a survivor I was.

But damn, I always wondered what it would be like to have a bunch of girl friends that I could trust to watch chick flicks and giggle with. Just once, I'd have liked to have been accepted as one of the girls...