From the time we were kids, we got our first taste of how mean little boys can be. They would pull our hair, call us names, tell everyone how gross we were, and even attempt to cut pieces out of our hair when the teacher wasn't looking. Adults would tell us it was because they liked us. When did that ever make it okay?
As we got a little older, the meanness continued. Although it differed slightly, it still hurt. They began to rate us on a scale of one to 10. If you weren't at least a seven, then you were made fun of. They judged our boobs, our butts, our body fat, our height, how we dressed and our overall look. We took everything they said to heart and quickly started shaming ourselves for not being that perfect ten that other girls were. We developed crushes on guys that we just knew we'd never have a chance with because that's what everyone would tell us. We would go home and imagine what it'd be like to date one of the "hot guys," then go to school the next day and slump back into the invisible corner of "lonely" and "not pretty enough."
When we finally reached the age of dating, we lowered our standards because we thought we weren't good enough for the good ones. We had boyfriends that would tell us things like, "Wow, you're actually hot today," on the day of your pageant because you have a full face of caked on makeup. Then we dated losers that our whole family couldn't stand. The kind of losers that would break up with us after we missed a few days of school due to strep throat, and their excuse was, "Would you rather me break up with you now, or cheat on you this weekend?"
Then we walked through the ugly doors of dating in college where there really is no such thing as dating anymore, but rather just hooking up. These guys would tell us everything we wanted to hear to get us to go home with them, but we knew they were nothing but wolves in sheep's clothing. Then when we did find one that wanted to date, we realized that they still weren't over their ex no matter how many times they attempted to tell us otherwise. They strung us along because there was something about them. But we were stupid enough to stay, even though it was clear as day that they didn't know what they wanted.
Boys are mean. Everything mean that mean boys have told me, has stuck with me. It's the kind of mean remark that you lie in bed late at night thinking about. It breaks my heart for my future daughter to know that she will be treated the same way that I was. It breaks my heart to know that she will lie in bed thinking about all the mean things that boys have told her because she could never forget them. Boys don't understand how much their words will impact girls. They don't realize how mean they're being and how girls will cry over them even though they're the ones that don't deserve the girls. It's sad how growing up a girl can turn out to be a nightmare. I'm thankful that regardless of all the mean gestures and remarks that I've had to endure, that I've always managed to keep a strong self esteem. I know I'm better than those mean boys. I know that I deserve better. Those boys will go nowhere in life. Those boys will be failures, but I will rise. I am beautiful, I am perfect the way that I am. In my book, I am that perfect 10.