There was a time in my life which wasn't so long ago that I was a very insecure person. I had trouble keeping friends, I struggled majorly with body image, and getting the attention of a senior boy was of the utmost importance. In other words I'm talking about my freshman year of high school. Now let me just tell you if you thought that you were awkward freshman year I guarantee I'll have a story to make you feel cooler then a coffee drinking artist with a pipe in his mouth.
So I'll paint a picture for you--I had recently that summer had seven...yes seven of my teeth removed and atop my remaining teeth I had freshly installed braces that looked more like poorly constructed railroad tracks at that point. My hair was cut short at my shoulders by a non-English speaking hairdresser who throught I had instructed them to cut off four inches rather than one (Not that I have anything against foreign hair dressers I mean I HAD been in a different country at the time...it just was something that wouldn't help my cause). And to top it all off I had a group of friends who didn't really want anything to do with me and a good friend of mine. And looking back, that may not have been entirely their fault. So what I'm tying to say in a nutshell is freshman year was the greatest time of my life.
Nevermind that I had to take swim class, okay let me just say first of all, whoever came up with the idea of high school swim was somewhat of a sadist. Who makes gangly adolescents get in their bathing suits and swim across a pool (which is mostly a mix of saliva and various STD's) in front of all their friends? Not only that, but adorn them in caps and flippers to "make you swim faster" but really, I think it's so the swim coaches can take their passive aggressive feelings out on their fourteen year old pupils. I didn't look anything like Michael Phelps. I looked like a loser. And something that really didn't help my cause was I was in the beginner lane. Aka the row for those so physically uncoordinated that just the simple act of propelling oneself across water made one queasy and ready to give up on high school all together. My advice for swim class? Bring a duck floatie and some penicillin, it just may help you survive. Also, be a boy if you can help it and avoid having your hair turn into icicles as you walk back to class.
Now to make matters worse I was deeply and embarrassingly infatuated with a boy. The only kind of deep infatuation that comes with being fourteen and lonely. He was a senior I was a freshman. He was outgoing and hip, I was out of place and searching. Every girl within a four mile radius of him was the enemy and I would try to convince myself that we were perfect for eachother. I was coincidentally reading the same books he liked, and I would proceed to coincidentally bring them up around him. I pretended to like things I didn't just to make myself appear more educated. I could learn to love the loathed if the loathed could lead me to what I loved...or thought I did anyway. Looking back, I wasn't cute, or charming...I was creepy. Yeah I said it, I was like one of those examples teachers would use as the bad guy in "Stranger Danger" lessons. The endless charade of Facebook stalking and personality changes made me become nothing short of pathetic. And as The Verve Pipe would argue I was merely a freshman but I was one in dire need of a reality check.
You're probably reading this either laughing or calling Social Services because you're deeply concerned, but all I can say is I think everyone goes through an identity crisis in high school. Maybe not one as drastic as mine, but I'm sure everyone has stopped more then once in their life and asked themselves if they really like who they are and if not, how should that change. So yeah, I was kind of an embarassment of a person back then, but the gap-mouthed out of shape me is still buried beneath me somewhere and she really knows what it's like to just get by. So my advice for incoming freshman? Here it is--Nobody can prepare you for high school. No amount of watching Mean Girls can prepare you for the female drama you will face , not any amount of chocolate will keep you from tearing your heart out over a senior. But nothing can really prepare you for the overwhelming pride you will feel when you overcome it all.
And always remember, no matter what, your mom thinks you're cool...I know mine did.
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