The good ol’ days (part 2)

Whilst thinking about what i told you last night, i became exceptionally proud. That is the first time that i have spoken about my school days in that sense. I have never revealed to anybody how i actually felt when i was growing up. I mean i didn’t go into immense detail, there is loads more that i could tell you about my childhood and the challenges that i had to face, (most of which you probably wouldn’t believe) but that is not really the purpose of this blog. Plus i believe that experiences and untold stories from my childhood can be better expressed through my writings, (poetry etc) painting a clearer picture, rather than giving you chapters from my life.

I think the reason i have never told anybody is because part of me felt ashamed for feeling that way. For being one of the kid’s on the outside who had to try and work her way in, and never quite got there. It was somthing i just wanted to forget about, meaning it still affected me. I realsied that being able to share it so freely now, means that i have fully overcome those feelings. Something i thought i had already done.

So i must give myself a pat on the back 🙂

The good ol’ days

I was sitting down thinking about….just, random stuff, when the idea for this post emerged. Lately i have been thinking about just how far I’ve come to getting better acquainted with me, myself and I. I have spent so long trying to find Me, and i use the word find because it wasn’t easy and it took a while. Some people are lucky enough to naturally feel comfortable in their skin. Unfortunately i was not blessed in that way, i had to fight my way there.

In school i was a loner. Not by reputation, but inside. I never felt like i fitted in, and believe me, i tried. This was all through my school years. I went to a few secondary schools and quite a few more primary schools, as we moved around quite a bit. Every school comes with categorized pupils. There are the Cool kids, The geeks, The brain boxes, the Loners and then there are the ones that are just sort of wavering between the Cool kids and the Loners. But are closer to the Loners. It was so important for me to get in with the Cool kids, to be seen, to be acknowledged. I knew a lot of the Cool kids, you know occasionally we would conversate, but i was never considered part of the group, and i knew it.
I spent my school years trying to impress people that i know longer even speak to. People that i have not seen in donkeys years. People who felt that being COOL meant judging those that weren’t fortunate enough to be able to afford the latest mobile phone, or pair of trainers. That being cool meant you were superior. But for some reason, to an adolescent at an impressionable stage in her life, that was appealing, and it became something i craved to be a part of. At the time i felt that becoming part of that group would solve everything. It would make me feel complete, but at that time i never realised that my problems were within, and so were the answer to solving those problems. I didn’t know where i fitted in because i was to ashamed to be me. Now i ask myself why? What was wrong with me? And my answer….nothing. So i wasn’t able to afford the latest phone, or pair of trainers, but that didn’t change the fact that i was still me. And yet because i lacked these “essential” MATERIAL things, ME wasn’t noticed. Who i was was not important.

I have battled a lot with my personal appearance as well as trying to understand me. I have had a few eating disorders over the years. Being thin was a passion. I wanted to be beautiful, i wanted to be noticed. I never realised that i was already beautiful. But at the time I was not at the fore-front of my mind. I was not trying to impress me, i was to busy trying to impress everybody else. Everybody who didn’t matter. So there were day’s where i didn’t eat, and after a while my body became accustomed to the stomach pains, that it became more frequent. I wore what i knew my friends would find COOL, but yet was not necessarily what i liked, and i did certain thing’s i knew my friends would be impressed by.

Now i look back at those years and laugh. I have to. I have come a long, long way since then. Now i am not afraid to be me. I do what i do, and i like what i like. I wear what i want, and i say how i feel. This is me, and I’m know longer afraid to show it.