As everyone pretty much agrees, teenage years were very awkward, confusing, frustrating, and maddening, to say it lightly. Just as I was talking about selfishness, at this stage in life, I was very selfish–and confused, and self-critical, and just angry with myself mostly. I was passive-aggressive, quiet, and quite vicious when the wrong buttons were being pushed–and because I let those buttons be pressed by, what I call, “mental terrorists” (okay, I admit–Dane Cook said that), the anger just built up, like constantly shaking a soda can. You shake it, constantly, wondering “what would happen”, and–
I became a terrible, terrible person to the people I loved, and those strangers who enjoy public dramas thought it was the best thing they’ve ever seen–turning a quiet, laid-back, genuinely nice and sweet girl into the beast they wanted to see.
I never wanted to be mean. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life (except my younger brother, who is very cocky and mean-spirited regardless)–the most I’d do is scream at the top of my lungs and let the person–who wanted a fight–have a piece of me like they seemed to have wanted. Perhaps they were simply evil–or easily judgemental. More than likely, they were insecure with themselves, so mocking others made them feel good–made them feel like they are better than others, even if they’ve never accomplished something great in their lives.
For example, when I was 18 years old (nearly three years ago), I had a boyfriend at the time that I was seeing for the second time in New York, and we were just walking around Walmart, minding our own business. What we noticed while we were walking was that a woman was following us the entire time–spitting out very vile things about my weight at me. She continued to do so for a while before I just snapped.
“Say it to my face,” I said as I turned towards the harasser, and I blacked out into an anger-mode I never knew existed. A plethora of virulent things came out of my mouth, and they were so bad (according to my boyfriend) that she ran out the store, crying. A nearby cop wanted to intervene, but even he was scared of me (or maybe my military-like-ex was exaggerating a bit).
I didn’t, and still, don’t remember a thing.
Anger management is something I’ve been working on now,and the few things I do, as a quiet intellectual, is write, exercise, and play, yes, violent video games (which, by the way, would never be copied in real life–and no, video games do not make you violent).
All I wanted was peace, to reflect, and to meditate as a teen–these activities were calming to me while it was boring to others. We’re all different, right? I was the black, angry sheep of my family, and many lessons were learned–and I’ve gained valuable morals in the process.
Speaking of being different, I truly was the black sheep of my family. While the majority of my family members enjoyed talking to each other about things that ultimately didn’t matter (both sides of my family [ahem, the women,] were definitely the gossipers), I was the only one who enjoyed solitude and self-teaching. Not that I’m saying women lack logic, but even I have my moments where my estrogen takes over anything reasonable. I’m still a woman.
There were particular events that occurred with my family that changed the way I viewed Greeks in general, but I will discuss that in another chapter of “When I Was A Young Girl”.
The main thing to consider is that common sense should be exercised regardless of the situation. If you see an interracial couple, leave them be. If you see a homosexual couple, let them be. If you happen to see a very skinny guy with a bigger woman, and they’re happy together, don’t judge them just because you may be single, or frustrated with yourself in some way–and never decide to pick on someone just because you think it’s fun.
Your delicious gossip fodder does not help anything, and it never will.
It hurts others more than you think.
Look in the mirror before analyzing someone else. Because, as they say, you were never in their shoes, to begin with.