Learning to blend into the background

Today I was going to write about something else entirely, but this is what started flowing out, so here it is, the story of sixth grade and how it was the beginning of many of my quirks.


As a little girl I wore a lot of hand-me-downs. In the beginning I didn't really know the difference, it wasn't until much later that I learned my clothes were less than stellar. I did learn to hate turtlenecks by the fourth grade. I hated the way they made me feel like I was choking and they were so hot. Around that time I also learned that I really didn't like the printed shirts my mother always made me wear either. Basically it was all about standing out. I hated to stand out. I wanted to blend into the background. It was easier that way. If you blend into the background no one will make fun of you right?

Anyway, by sixth grade I was beginning to realize that my mother had no up-to-date clue about how young girls wanted to look or dress. I will never forget this hideous sweat suit that she made my sister and I wear, yep they matched. It was this weird teal color with bright yellow leg warmer things and burgundy with some kind of print on it. She also picked out my clothes, stating that I wasn't capable of doing it. So this one day I had to be in this skit in science/health class. I was already devastated that I would have to do this because I hated standing up in front of the class. When you are ugly, I mean everyone tells you that you are including your mother, you just know that everyone will only notice that ugly girl. So I did the skit and then when we had to watch the video of it I was sick to my stomach. I saw myself in that hideous outfit mumbling and my short greasy hair and oily skin.

This was the year that I started puberty. It was a horrible year, I would have to say probably one of the worst ones ever. My mother had all these old outdated ideas of how a girl/woman should care for herself during this time, so I wasn't taught properly at first. Thankfully I ended up in Michigan for the summer after sixth grade and my two Aunts taught me much better hygiene.

If you can imagine being surrounded by girls with long hair and pretty dresses and up-to-date clothes. Girls that were allowed to watch Kirk Cameron in that popular T.V. show, to this day I don't know the name of it. I had no clue who he was. At home we watched the news and whatever my mother decided to have on the T.V. Saturdays she loved to watch old westerns, and when Elvis movies came on that was all she watched. I have probably seen every one of his movies, and I know most of the words to a lot of the popular songs. No current radio for me. Mom always liked Country music. Now due to always having Country Music on, I did grow to love all music by the Judds. A close family friend, my sister and I would always sing their songs to her mom in a concert. To this day I love the 80's Country Music.

I did win one battle with my mom on clothing though. She had gotten this huge puff coat that came down to my knees, and I hated that thing, especially since I wore it in fifth grade too. Anyway we didn't have coat hooks in the classroom because this was our first year to change classes. We had small lockers and that stupid thing did not fit in the locker and I didn't want to carry it. So my Dad gave me this plaid field jacket and that is what I wore for a coat. I actually wore that off and on the rest of the time I was in school.

I also remember hating having to dress in gym clothes. It meant changing in the locker room. It was also where I learned that I had really hairy arm pits and legs. Nope, I wasn't allowed to shave because I was only twelve. Never mind that I looked like a cousin of Big Foot. I was also very self conscious of how I smelled. My mother had this idea that we should only take baths every other day, hair washed once a week and if it was your special time then no bath for the duration. Talk about humiliation! I would always try to hide in the back of the dressing room and I tried to dress very fast. This was the year I failed gym class. My Dad was furious. But I didn't know how to explain to him how humiliating it was to change in front of all those girls. Girls that already took great pride in making me feel lower than the low. They enjoyed laughing in my face about my ugly plastic bow that was place precisely on the side of my head. And what was the purpose? I didn't really have enough hair for the stupid thing. My mom let me wear it because I had cried when she had my hair cut, I cried because I wanted to wear hair bows.

The whole hair cut was a way for her to make sure I knew she was in control. Because the summer before I discovered bandanas. I loved to roll them up and tie them in my hair. Hair that was just above my shoulders and such a pretty blonde. I loved my hair. My mother hated the bandanas, she said they were sloppy. So in order to solve the problem she just cut my hair off into a pixie. I will never do this to my daughter, never! I hated that hair cut more than anything.

So obviously this was the year girls were beginning to crush on boys. I had my fair share of crushes. But they never noticed me and if they realized I did have a crush on them they got scared and disgusted. I had one true friend during this year. I really enjoyed the times I went to her house. She had a much more normal life than I did. She even had a VCR and her mom would take us to the video store so we could rent movies. I saw La Bamba at her house. Now due to a lot of maturity issues, I was still playing with Barbie. I loved my Malibu Barbie with her long black hair and brown skin.

My Grandmother died this year. I was devastated. Just the summer before I had spent with her and my Grandfather in Michigan. So my dad pulled my sister and I out of school for almost two weeks because we had to go to Michigan to see my Grandmother before she passed away, then a viewing in Michigan and a viewing in West Virginia. I did enjoy the time in Michigan and West Virginia. It was nice because a lot of the time I was away from my mother who always managed to make me feel low or ugly or something. This was also the year that wearing pink freaked me out for the first time. I was wearing this pink shirt that I actually liked and these purple pants with black pin stripes. I must admit this was my favorite outfit. Anyway someone at one of the viewings said I looked like my Grandmother and it scared me for some reason. I spent some time with the cousins. I loved spending time with them.

But the entire time I was there I had to do all this make up work for school. In between the things I had to do and playing I worked on the home work. I thought I was making pretty good progress. I remember in Social Studies we had to do outlines on each chapter, so I had the one I was doing when I left and the one assigned for while I was gone. I was nearly finished with this one, I came back to school and realized that another one was assigned. So the teacher had everyone who didn't have the current one finished to stand up, of course I had to stand up. When asked why I explained I had just gotten back from an out of state funeral, and he firmly stated I had known about it, and that was no excuse. It was a horrible day.

I spent the summer between sixth and seventh grade in Michigan. I played dress up with my cousin and sister. I discovered high heels and how they made you feel like you were on top of the world. I played spoons and the game of Life. I had a blast. I got to take showers every day. I learned that even if it is your special time you can still go swimming you just need a tampon. I know you are looking at that and thinking WHAT? but I had no idea they even existed until my Aunt told me. Before I was informed you stay out of the water entirely if it is your special time. I loved washing my hair. Again my hair was growing out and again I loved it!

Once back home my mom tried to cope with this change in me. We fought a lot. I received a .75 cent allowance at the time. (My Dad was a cheapie lol) So my mom came up with this bright idea that if I wanted Salon Selectives Shampoo (I loved the apple scent) then I had to use my own money. So somehow that all got worked out.

So now it was the beginning of War with my mom. I was beginning to fight her on everything. I am sure some of it was justified and some of it was not. I started wearing make up and since my mom didn't wear it, she couldn't show me the right way. I learned on my own. Looking at those pictures of me, I know that I didn't get it, not in the least. I wore bright lipsticks and clown circle blush and bright eye shadows. I also began fixing my hair, and made a mess of that too. I used a lot of hair spray and I did have big hair. It never looked finished like the other girls, but I liked it. I felt prettier this year. I still got made fun of and boys still didn't like to be associated with me.

This was also the first year I encountered a bully. She was not a nice girl at all. In seventh grade it was mandatory that everyone be on a basketball team. Not being an outgoing person, not having ever played or watched sports, this was a nightmare. I didn't get it! I had no idea what to do or how to do it and loved when I got to sit on the bench. Well as my luck would have it, the best basketball player in the school was on my team. The bully who was in my English class, noticed I was on this team and she was angry because her team lost to us. I could care less. So this bully took to harassing me every day in English, she tried to trip me, she called me names, she took my paper and pencils, you name it. I hated that she sat close to me. But what could I say. From always being told how ugly I was or how dumb or stupid or careless or worthless at home, this was just more of the same. I couldn't fight it at home or it became physical, so why fight it here? I never did stand up for myself in school, I always took it. No matter what they called me or did to me, I just listened and went on.

I did like this English class, I discovered I could write and enjoyed writing little things, though nothing noteworthy. I was ecstatic when I learned I had made it into the Accelerated English Class for eight grade.

But somehow through sixth and seventh grade, I survived. I took the hurtful words and filed them away. I learned who to avoid and how. I thought I wanted to be pretty and popular like them. I began to hate my life at home. I was beginning to hate my mother. (I have since forgiven her, she isn't well and didn't know how to be a mom) I learned that kids can be really mean. It is important as parents that we teach our children how to be nice to everyone. That being popular and having nice clothes and things does not make them better than those that do not have those things. I want my children to be the ones that stand up for the bullied children and reach out to them.

When I see on the news a story of a teen suicide, I know how close I must have been myself. There were dark days where I felt alone, like no adult would listen to me. My dad was always working always thinking that if my mom hit me or yelled at me then I must have instigated it. I am not for one minute saying I was a perfect child, because I was not. I learned from the best how to be manipulative and lie and steal and tell stories to make people feel sorry for you. By the time I was a teenager I knew that to get a man to love you, you had to give them what they wanted. After all my mom let me read raunchy romance books before I was even a teenager.

I pray everyday as a parent that God will guide me as to how to raise my children. I take them to church we read the Bible. We learn how to share and not covet, yep my mom also taught me how to covet. I don't like gossips, I have often found myself on the losing end of gossip mongers conversations. And as the overly quiet girl in school I heard what the kids said about each other.

I want to teach my kids how to grow up to be good citizens who love one another and do not judge and are willing to help and reach out to those in need. I have been forgiven for my sins, and I thank God everyday for sending his Son to die on the Cross for my sins. Without his love for me, I would not be here today.

I was young and careless and full of hate. I was hurt and felt worthless and like a failure. I never felt like I could do anything right after all isn't that what my mom said everyday. I'm not sure exactly how old I was when she began calling me a slut, but I'm thinking it was about sixth grade. I don't know why she started calling me that, but she did. Be careful the words you throw at your children. You don't want to shape their young minds into believing that they will amount to nothing.

So the point of all this is, yes I had a mostly horrible childhood and then there were the great times. But one day when I was nearly 20 I finally found God and the peace I was seeking, and for that I am extremely grateful.