(Pt. 2) When I was a young girl…



As mischievous as I was, I often felt guilt…and in some cases, betrayal.

Why did I feel guilty? Because of this one evil eye that kept staring at me in the middle of the night, when I’d try to sleep, and relax, and dream…

That eye was the green eye–the eye of jealousy.

At a young age, I was known as the chubby girl (and still am). At just 11 years old I weighed a massive 250 lbs. I was obviously struggling with childhood obesity, and thus, at just 18 years old, I was diagnosed with high blood pressure, and pre-diabetes. I was literally a couple points away on my A1C to be fully diagnosed with diabetes. But, I never let it.

Being a pre-teen and a full teenager was hard for me (I still feel like it even though I’m 20 years old) By the time I’ve turned 12, unfortunately, my mother passed away. It was horrifying, and heartbreaking, to know that the only mother I knew for 12 years was gone, never to come back.

I was one angry child. My only problem was that I kept it bottled up, so in unexpected moments, I’d burst, yelling even at my poor little brother (who’s very honest and destructive, but we’ll get into his problems later!), and yelling at my best friend, who we’ll call her as K.

When K and I first met in elementary school, 1st grade, it was the most magical meeting I’ve ever had (from what I can remember!) Picture it: CL Elementary School, 2002-2003 (if you caught that reference, thank you! I love The Golden Girls). It was the first couple weeks of school, and we simply came up to each other and said,

(K) *waves her hand* “Hi!”

(Me) *awkwardly scratching the back of my ankle with a shoe, looking away shyly* “Hi…”

(K) “You want to color together?”

(Me) *smiles* “O-Okay!”

We colored, we talked, we laughed…we exchanged house phone numbers, we hugged, and right after school, I was excited for her to come visit me. Her parents were strict, but once she did come over…wow. Not only did me and K have fun, but my mother and hers were a perfect match together. Our mothers became the best of friends as well.

My mother was Greek. Her mother was Ethiopian. It was no wonder they got along–Ethiopians are very orthodox just as Greeks are.

The jealousy came around the time we were about to go to middle school (where I live, 6th grade is still considered elementary).



She met new friends. More interesting friends. Friends who…bullied her and told her what to wear, what to eat, where to hang out, and where to have some real fun: drugs and sex.

I became jealous that they were trying to take my friend away. Not only that, I was furious at what they were doing to her.

She became corrupted by High School. And thus, for a while, our friendship was over.

The story continues on part 3.


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