posted
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been weird. When I was born, my dad called me “Bug” for my large, attentive eyes. My first true memory is of being punished for peeing my pants because I was too intrigued by something on television. I had spiders for pets and have always read every bit of print around me.
Being weird wasn’t a bad thing when I was a small child. My parents loved me, I had a wonderful extended family, and a younger sister to play with. I had all sorts of pets and books. I had friends who would play out my stories with me.
But then we moved. I was in second grade, and it was after the school year had started. I was shy and nervous, but I made good grades and hoped I would soon find a new friend.
It didn’t happen. I was perceptive enough to observe cliques, and was too shy to ask for admittance. I called them “established friends” in my mind, and I didn’t want to break them up. I was geeky, ugly, and a brown-noser. I talked to ladybugs on the playground. There were two girls who accepted me into their circle, but one of them liked to pinch. I wouldn’t let her pinch me, and I hated watching her pinch and abuse the other. So I didn’t hang out with them much. No one else really wanted to be my friend.
Once, a pretty girl my own age sat next to me on the bus. She went to my church, and seemed to be friendly. We got to talking, and I started telling her my fantasy of watching a black horse run along the roadsides as the bus went down the road. She immediately got a disgusted look on her face, told me I was “weird”, and stopped talking to me.
I didn’t really care. I had books. My sister played with me and was my best friend. My parents loved me. I excelled at spelling and writing stories, so I got praised at school. I did ask uncomfortable questions about God and what if? that got immediately squelched by my parents, but I still knew I was loved.
Then my sister found a friend in her own grade. A best friend. Suddenly, she didn’t want to play with me. She quickly became more socially mature, even though I was 2 years older. I felt betrayed and hurt, although I certainly didn’t begrudge my sister her happiness and friendship. I just wished I could find a friend.
Another year or two went by, with me on the fringes of my sister’s friendship. Sometimes we would all put on plays together. Sometimes the girls would shut me out. I was like a little sister rather than a big one.
Finally, in fifth grade, I realized that I was a social outcast.
I had just won the school spelling bee, and I was heady with success. When it came time for the final word, I literally tasted success on my tongue! It was sweet, sweet, sweet!
But my opponent, the second place winner, began to hate me. She was quite popular, with a wide circle of friends. She began to openly shun me, and those of her circle did so, too. They did all those nasty little things girls do to show disapproval. They wouldn’t speak to me or talk to me. They would talk about me, just out of earshot, and then turn and stare at me with nasty faces. No one stood up for me, and soon the entire class had ostracized me. I was very confused. I didn’t understand what was happening. I just knew no one was kind to me, that no one wanted to be around me. It hurt.
Eventually, I went to my mother and told her I had no friends. It took a lot of courage to say that much. She told me that of course I did, wasn’t so-and-so (a kid in my class from my church or something) my friend? I knew what a friend was – didn’t my sister have a close, intimate friend? And at that moment I knew my mother would never understand. I just shook my head, tried vaguely to explain, and fell silent. I walked away, letting my mother think it was no big deal. And I knew I could never trust my mother again. Not with anything important.
Back to school, to the agony of the realization that NO ONE liked me. At best, they tolerated my presence. It didn’t matter any more that teachers and family liked me. They had to. You have to like blood, or kids who succeed in your class. But I had no friends. No one to play with or talk to.
Books became my survival. I became very close to Meg Murray, from A Wrinkle in Time, who seemed to feel as I did. Fantasy was my only joy for a while. I tried to figure out what was wrong with me, and I didn’t know, I didn’t know! I assumed it was because I had won the spelling bee. What else could it be? I was always nice to everyone, I was smart, and I honestly didn’t feel negatively toward anybody. Why were they angry with me?
I looked around desperately for a friend. I found one in the smartest girl in 5th grade. She was even weirder than I was. She had very short hair and dressed like a boy. At first I wondered if she used the girls’ or boys’ bathroom. But I soon learned she was indeed a girl, and actually very interesting.
It was a wary friendship. It’s hard to become close when the first thing you say to someone is, “Are you a boy or a girl?” But we found some common interests, and we played archaeologist in the dirt on the playground. It was a weird pursuit, but we enjoyed each other’s company. This was at the very end of 5th grade.
The summer, happy summer, came and went. Middle school began.
I hardly remember middle school. I have shut most of it out, in the way people will black out traumas. I do remember a few things. I had two friends, one in 6th grade and one in 7th. We would hang out together. They weren’t true friends, to me, because I knew they were not my intellectual equals and they just didn’t talk about the things I was interested in. But I pretended to be interested in music and makeup and boys, and we got along that way. Most of the time, I was just bored with them, but I basked in the attention.
My worst memory ever: One day, my 2 friends wouldn’t talk to me. At all. They completely gave me the cold shoulder and wouldn’t tell me why. Finally, at lunch, the kinder of the two told me that people had said I was gay. I was flabbergasted. This was a term I had never heard before in my life. I begged her to be my friend. I said, “How can I be something, when I don’t even know what it means?” She started to go away from me, and I am ashamed to admit that I used bribery to keep my friends. I had ordered Christmas presents with my mom from a catalog not two nights before this. I said, “But I already got your presents!” And I proceeded to tell her all about the cool makeup kit I’d gotten for her. So she hung out with me.
7th grade is a blur. I don’t remember it at all. In the summer before my 8th grade year, Ryan White’s struggle with AIDS became national news. Not much was known about the disease at the time, and parents were panicky. My parents chose to send me to private school. In my heart, I was defiant. I wasn’t afraid of AIDS. But I went along with what they wanted.
The Christian school I went to was very small. The entire 8th grade had fewer than 20 kids. The kids were kind, accepting, and friendly. I started to fit in somewhat. However, I was wary. When would these nice girls turn on me? I started to come out of my nerdy shell somewhat, because I was finally accepted.
But by high school, the Ryan White issues had been resolved. He had moved away to Cicero. And it was back to my old school.
I was determined to come back and be popular. As I walked through the halls, I watched what the popular kids were doing. The one thing I noticed was that all the girls had boyfriends.
Near the end of my freshman year, I got involved with the drama club. As a lowly freshman, I could only be a prompter, but it was enough. I loved being on the stage! Also, my hormones had finally kicked in and I was becoming attracted to boys. I flirted and was relatively happy.
One day, after play practice, two of the guys were playing with a yo-yo. One of them, Brian, had his class ring on, and the yo-yo made a great click whenever it hit his hand. This was significant, for it meant he had broken up with his girlfriend. Later that evening, he asked me out. I said I would have to check with my mother. My mom, of course, freaked out. In her position, I guess I would have done the same. But at the time, all I knew was that she wouldn’t allow me to go out on a date, and the only reason she gave was that the boy was three years older than me. I was 13, he was almost 17.
She gave in, though, when the date was revealed to be a trip to his church for a missions conference. His dad was the preacher there. So, here is how the date went. He came over to my house and we played a board game in my room, with the door open. He kissed me, and was bold enough to stick his hands under my shirt. I was astonished, but then I was okay with it. It felt nice! I thought to myself that this was just one more thing my parents and my church were clueless about… They had been terribly wrong about unicorns (my mom made us cut the horns off our My Little Pony unicorns) and fantasy novels. And I felt that I could say stop when I wanted to.
Then we were taken to Brian’s church by his mom. It was boring. We sat in the pew together. After that, he had forgotten he had to sing (he was in the show choir), so his mom rushed us to the nursing home, where they were performing. I sat with the old people and watched. Afterward, one of the girls in his choir asked if I was Brian’s girlfriend. I said I didn’t know yet. We went home in a car full of guys, who dropped everyone off. Brian and I held hands.
After that, I went out with Brian a lot. Our relationship quickly dissolved into going somewhere long enough to make it look like a normal date (the bowling alley, the pool hall, etc.) and then finding a place to make out. I didn’t really enjoy that. I wanted to have fun, but Brian always wanted to make out. I got really confused – I enjoyed the physical feelings, but I felt guilty and I didn’t like lying to my parents about what I’d been doing. Also, when I asked Brian to stop or slow down, he would give me all sorts of “logical” reasons why I couldn’t back out. And I, wanting to be a good girlfriend, would give in.
Also at this time, I became very isolated from even my quasi-friends. Brian was a very jealous boyfriend, wanting to be with me all the time. I thought that this was how things were when you had a boyfriend – that you had to be together all the time. Thank the movies for this ideal…He effectively cut me off from anyone who could have been my sanity and support. He set me against my mother, and isolated me from my friends. At the time I did not realize it, but now I can see how deliberately Brian separated me from everyone but himself.
Of course this led to sex at a young age for me. My high school years from the end of freshman year until I graduated, and even into my first year at college, were dominated by Brian. I spent my free time going out with him, making out, and trying to forget what I had just done. I remember, very painfully, a time I refused to have sex with him. He verbally abused me until I gave in, disassociating myself during the entire act. Our makeout sessions were all about how fast could I get it over with. I never enjoyed it any more, except for the vague physical pleasure. I am a sensual creature, and cannot deny that my body responded. Yet the mental effects are those of rape, or sexual abuse.
Finally, during that first year of college, he proposed. I accepted. Then I called my mom. She asked me not to tell anyone just yet. I agreed. And I thought about it that week. And I thought, “I guess I could be happy with him.” And I thought, “You GUESS? What the hell are you thinking, girl?” And I knew then I could leave him.
When I next saw Brian, I gave everything back and asked him never to contact me again. He stalked me a bit, but soon gave up when I would not accept his gifts.
In college, I was a bit lost. During my senior year, I had resisted filling out scholarship forms, and bridled against choosing a career. I didn’t know what I was good at, and I didn’t care what I would do. I felt so trapped, and I couldn’t examine myself deeply. Otherwise, I would be opening the mental blocks I’d created to protect myself from Brian. Finally I settled on Ball State, keeping myself free of the Christian colleges my parents really wanted me to go to. I went after teaching, because I have intrinsic gifts for working with children, and because my mom had been a teacher.
After breaking up with Brian, I found myself making a few friends and thriving on my coursework. I fell passionately in love with an atheist who was quite taken with me. We had a passionate love affair, but it didn’t last long due to my (at the time) conservative beliefs. I still regret cutting that relationship short, for Jae truly loved me with an unconditional love.
One summer, I went to England, to teach and live and learn. It was one of the best experiences of my life. I kept a journal, and when I came home, I shared it with my family. They panicked.
In my journal, I had written about deliberately getting drunk (along with the precautions I took so that I wouldn’t be hurt) and what it was like. I had written my impressions of the drunken state, and also my decision that drunkenness wasn’t really all that exciting. I wrote about my love for my boyfriend (the philosopher mentioned later). I wrote about my ideas on war and education. I mentioned Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead in reference to some societal observations I made.
My family came down hard on me. I was crushed. I had wanted to share the most awesome experience of my life with them, and all they could do was judge me. I was 19 years old. Because I was different from them, they could not trust me and could not accept me for who I was. I had tried to bare my heart to them, and I got hurt.
My next boyfriend was a philosopher. I had deliberately set my sights for someone intellectual and ambitious. I dated this guy for the rest of college, though he moved away to grad school. Our long-distance relationship got rocky, and I started to become depressed. My relationship with my family was also quite strained by this time. I had very little emotional support to keep me sane. I did have a few friends, but no one seemed to understand my need to both be close to my family and maintain my intellectual/psychological integrity.
Student teaching was the worst time of my life. Joe and I had broken up by then, I was far from home and friends, and my supervising teacher didn’t like me. One day, I just lay on the floor and watched the shadows move across the room. All day long. That’s when I finally got medical help.
It didn’t last long, because I was determined to live without antidepressants. So I just never refilled my prescription. And I survived. When I finished student teaching, I was pretty directionless. I’d been disillusioned by my student teaching experience, and I wasn’t sure I wanted the life of a teacher anymore. I lived with my parents, and we got along decently. I just had to keep my personal thoughts and feelings to myself, and they didn’t ask questions they didn’t really want to know the answers to. I wandered professionally, with no ambition. I wanted to fit into my family’s expectations, and I was lost to myself for a while.
But I was still fighting. I managed to take up an oil painting class while I worked for various day cares. Through a series of events related to that class, I met the man who is now my husband. By some miraculous coincidence, he had much the same experience with his parents as I, though of course the details were different. We understood each other perfectly. He was smart, ambitious, and everything I was not. He was logical, neat, and practical. His strengths balanced my weaknesses. And vice versa. So, we got married.
Even in my early marriage, I was wandering. It took me several years to find myself again. And this is where Hatrack comes in.
When I was pregnant with my daughter, I knew I would have to do a lot of soulwork to be a good mother for her. And I did. I read, meditated, and worked through a lot of my issues. I also discovered Hatrack River.
At first, I wanted to be part of a website that a famous author consulted. I thought it would be so neat if my words affected him somehow. So I explored the site. I fell in love with the 1830’s forum, and began writing a character called Jenny Gardener. For a couple of years, I wrote characters and stories in that forum exclusively.
Then, BootCamp occurred. Hoping against hope, I submitted and was accepted. My husband graciously conceded the expense and I got to spend a glorious week working with OSC. More importantly, though, I found my Tribe. Everyone I met was funny and smart and, well, weird. Their brains worked like mine did! For the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged.
Of course, after that, I started hanging on the BFFAC forum and becoming a part of the community here. I found myself surrounded by intelligent, creative people that I couldn’t find anywhere else. Hatrack became my mental lifeline.
At this point in my life, I have come full circle professionally and am pursuing a teaching career. I am hot to teach gifted and talented children, primarily because I am coming to grips with the realization that I WAS gifted and didn’t know it. A lot of my weirdness is directly related to that aspect of who I am. And I am now feeling validated and strong.
Hatrack, in my theory, is a haven for "gifted" people. You are all witty, intelligent, and sensitive people. Thank you for being there. You will never know how much this community has meant to me.
Posts: 3141 | Registered: Apr 2000
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Thank you so much for the landmark, and thank you for trusting us enough to write it. This is your tribe. I'm so glad you're here. Posts: 26077 | Registered: Mar 2000
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Jenny, thank you for sharing that. I, myself have had trouble finding a place where I fit in. Hatrack is a wonderful place. I'm posting here, even though you haven't posted in my landmark thread. j/k Thank you again for sharing this with us.
Posts: 4569 | Registered: Dec 2003
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*clap* that was so nice! You sound almost like me in the parts about being weird at school and family going and Posts: 9942 | Registered: Mar 2003
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As part of my ongoing practice of using other people's landmark threads to point out how cool *I* am, I am going to let it be known that I was with Andrea at the bootcamp.
So, feel free to be insanely jealous of me for spending a week in close association with the cool person who wrote the above landmark.
Posts: 5383 | Registered: Dec 1999
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Ah, Jenny, that was beautiful. Several aspects of your childhood hauntingly remind me of my own. Thank you for allowing yourself to be vulnerable and letting us know you better.
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I think a lot of people on this forum can relate to some of the things you have gone through. I know I can. Thank you so much for sharing that. It was beautiful Posts: 739 | Registered: Dec 2003
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I suspect a high percentage of Hatrackers were off to the side in school, for one reason or another.
I smiled at the "horse running along the bus" comment. When I was young I'd lay my head on the padded part of the car door and imagine, very vividly, a motorcyclist pacing us. I'd imagine the little bumps and turns as he negotiated sidewalks and pedestrians. Still dunno why, I've little interest in motorcycles, but I spent a lot of passenger time doing it.
Posts: 7790 | Registered: Aug 2000
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Hurt you? How could we read that and hurt you? Quit sweating, we're your tribe. We won't hurt you.
I almost fell out of my seat at some of the things you said, because they are so similar to things I went through. I used to stare out the window and watch the horses (and unicorns) run alongside the bus or car I was in, too. I've always paid close attention to men named Calvin, thinking that one day I might find Meg's Cal.
Of course, I didn't find Calvin. But I found someone even better.
*hug*
I love you, girl. So glad I got to meet you in person.
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I saw that horse clearly, too, Chris. He was midnight-black, with a blaze of white down his nose. I jumped him over obstacles, and I could hear the different sounds made as his hooves crossed different surfaces.
Posts: 3141 | Registered: Apr 2000
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Thanks for sharing that with us, JG. I know it's really hard to gather enough courage to write this, especially when there are so many people that know you in here. But remember, they are your friends ! If I would share such personal stuff it wouldn't be quite the same think, would it ?!
[j/k ] But would all of you guys try to slow down a little bit with all these landmark threads ? I'm trying to get to know you, and this doesn't make my life easier. [/ j/k ]
Posts: 4519 | Registered: Sep 2003
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Hatrack is your tribe. What a wonderful way of putting it! Thanks for sharing your childhood with us. I had some similar but more mild experiences of being weird and a social outcast. I'm still getting over my awkwardness from it. You are an amazing woman to have overcome all of that pain.
Posts: 3546 | Registered: Jul 2002
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If anybody ever used this to hurt you, they would have to be flogged.
I do have one question.
What ever happened to the unicorn horns? Did your parents grind them up and sell them as aphrodisiacs or something?
Posts: 4625 | Registered: Jul 2002
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I think the horns were thrown in the trash. Poor unicorns - they had to run around with holes in their little plastic heads. We stuck their forelocks in the holes to try to repair the damage.
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I wondered about the unicorns too, but thought it would be rude tro ask... Why did they do that? *also loved A Wrinkle in Time*
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I read every book in the house, including the ones on the top shelf in my mom and dad's bedroom. One of those "Focus on the Family" type authors was warning about how Satan tries to deceive people. Unicorns were supposedly getting people to accept fantasy, and leaving inroads for the devil. Something like that.
I also remembering my mom warning me not to play "Dungeons and Dragons" if they tried to do it in gym class! Posts: 3141 | Registered: Apr 2000
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Feel free to ask me just about anything! I WANT to be known. I want to be seen for who I am, and accepted.
Posts: 3141 | Registered: Apr 2000
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ohhh! that sounds so much like my own relatives... Like when I lived with my mother she would not let me have a nintendo because she said it's satanic and living with my grandmother and father and getting yelled at for reading a silly book about a witch and her cat. And, back with my mother finding this great King Arthur book and getting fussed at for that and when I lived with her in New Jersey she wouldn't let me watch Jem.
Posts: 9942 | Registered: Mar 2003
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There are a lot of people out there (me included) who don't know you, but you should never be afraid to put yourself out there for all the world to see, because I think you have so much to offer all of us. I am really proud to be part of a community that accepts everyone for who they are and where there is no need to be snarky and put up a wall between you and everybody else.
Thank you Jenny.
Posts: 739 | Registered: Dec 2003
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I agree with Beren on this one. Your picturereally ruined my illusion that beautiful women weren't even allowed to come close to a computer.
Posts: 739 | Registered: Dec 2003
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Beren, that picture was taken AFTER high school. And I wasn't a loner in high school. I was separated from the pack by a predator and isolated.
Also, you don't have to have an ugly exterior to both feel ugly and be ostracized. I was incredibly gauche in elementary and middle school. And I didn't know I was pretty until that wonderful atheist boy came along and called me "Pretty Lady" when I was 18.
PS. Don't make me resurrect the "It's Not Okay to be Pretty" thread...
As someone who has suffered from Clinical Depression, for as far back as I can remember, it really helps me when other people can talk honestly and openly about their experiences. I understand your reasons for not wanting to take anti-depressants and I applaud you for being strong enough to overcome this.
I'm so glad that you are happy now.
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I wish you'd gone to grade school with me; we'd have gotten along fameously.
It's incredible how closely some of your experiences, especially those in grade school, mirror my own.
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I knew I liked you, Jenny... I know the outcast feeling, too, and I certainly hope you see the person in the mirror that I see here-- you've earned that reward.
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For as long as I can remember, I've been a weird, solitary person with few friends, so I can relate to a lot of your experiences.
Posts: 5879 | Registered: Apr 2001
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Weirdos of Hatrack, unite! Power to the weirdos. I can't believe I'm posting here, when it's knocking my own landmark thread further down the page. Just kidding, Jenny. I really do appreciate your post.
Posts: 4569 | Registered: Dec 2003
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This thread only makes me feel more joyous that I have you in my life. My dear, sweet, sister-of-the-soul. I'm constantly torn between wanting to be more like you and... wanting to be more like my friend Lisa, who would probably be Waaaaaay too blunt for Hatrack. Guess I'll just be happy being, erm, one of Hatrack's 'Ravenous Birds of Prey' (yes, Taalcon, Kat told me ).
Oh-- the horse thing? It was always ME I imagined running beside the bus, flying beside the bus, or swinging like a monkey through the trees (or on the power lines ). But it was essentially the same fantasy. Wow. Maybe Hatrack is my Tribe, too. Posts: 9293 | Registered: Aug 2000
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Jenny, the part about spending all of high school with that guy does make me sad. I'm so incredibly proud of you for not marrying him. *hug*
Posts: 26077 | Registered: Mar 2000
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Katharina, I'm not trying to compete with Jenny and i'm not trying to be rude. If this comes accross that way, I apologize. I'm glad she posted this today. It makes me realize that I'm not the only weird person around here. I love reading landmark posts. In fact, kat, your landmark really got to me. Your story about your mom made me think about my own mom who is currentlly going through chemotherapy. I'd like to thank you for your landmark post. Jenny, I'm sorry to have derailed your thread.
Posts: 4569 | Registered: Dec 2003
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I'm new here; I don't know any of you. But that was a truly beautiful piece. I'm very happy for you.
I was much the same way in elementary and middle school...shunned...people only talked to me when they needed answers to the homework. Then I came to the Magnet Program at my high school, a group of eclectic and incredibly bright students who all shared the same experiences previously. I'm at home there. And then I found the Young Writer's Forum. I loved it. And now I'm here.
Thank you for sharing that. It is truly a beacon that there is always a time of change.
Posts: 515 | Registered: Mar 2004
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Jenny, that was lovely. Thank you for sharing your life up till now with us. A lot of what your wrote reminded me of myself, especially the middle school years. Of course, there are plenty of differences to keep the story your own. Pet spider!
Thank you for being brave. I know how hard that can be (and still is for me). Hatrack is definitely a community where one can blossom.
That was fantastic. I had a very similar experience at BootCamp: I found community. Not the only community I belong to, but another piece of the puzzle. I realized that everything that is wierd about me isn't just random, not quite fitting in with a lot of people. I really was a writer, not just a wannabe.
Posts: 3495 | Registered: Feb 2000
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If you're weird, then I'm weird, too, just a lot older.
I had this little armadillo-like toy animal in Jr. High. It was my best friend. Then the Bus Bully took it and threw it out the window. So I saw the little animal running alonside the bus every afternoon. Posts: 1379 | Registered: Feb 2002
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Andrea, what can I say. If Hatrack has ever taught me anything, it's taught me that you can never place a cap on respect. Just when you think you've reached the apex of how much you can respect an individual - they go and do something which makes the former top appear merely middle of the road.
Hon, you just burst through that apex on my Respect-o-meter.
quote:one of Hatrack's 'Ravenous Birds of Prey' (yes, Taalcon, Kat told me).
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Andrea, that was heartbreaking and eerily familiar and wonderful. Thank you for being here, and thank you for opening up and sharing yourself with us.
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Jenny, the terrible thing about your landmark post is that it makes me miss you so much! (((Andrea))) I'll never forget the vision of you twirling around under a cathedral of glass at the very first Wenchcon.
Like so many of us, I find eerie echoes of my life in your recollection of your own. However, the richness you bring to those memories and to this place are all your own.
Love you, sweetheart. Thanks for the gift of yourself. Posts: 14017 | Registered: May 2000
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Wow . . . I started reading this already planning my cute reply. But this blew me away with its honesty and profundity (and, of course, its familiarity). I have always enjoyed your posts, and I'm grateful for this chance to get to know you better. I fell much the same as you do about Hatrack, and I'm proud to be a part of your tribe.
Posts: 1112 | Registered: Jan 2003
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