Dear "Popular Girls",
In high school, I was never "cool." I had a small group of friends and we were never invited to parties or bonfires. We were too busy being the "weirdos" and the "quiet kids." We were the ones obsessed with anime and music, the ones who would rather binge-watch Marvel's "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D" than go to the Friday night football games. And for some absolutely baffling and awful reason, I thought that made us better than the happy, bubbly, popular students.
Throughout high school, I made fun of the cheerleaders and girls on the dance team. I joked about their short skirts and high ponytails. I thought they were idiots for following the trends they saw on Instagram and TikTok. I degraded them and their abilities because I thought everything they did was too much. I thought that there was supposed to be this big divide between "us" and "them" so I did my best to distance myself from anyone who I thought was too silly and frivolous for me.
This went for the guys too, of course. I thought that the "jocks" were meatheads. I didn't want to "waste my time" with them because I thought they were too dumb. I was convinced that all they wanted was sex and weed, and if they wanted that then all they had to do was hang out with the slutty dance team. I built this whole narrative in my head about who was "right" and who was "wrong" because that's what I thought was normal. I thought that's how high school was.
Whoever heard of an emo chick hanging with the prissy girls, anyways? I was too smart for them, too ambitious. I thought they weren't worth my time, that it would only ever be awkward and boring if I talked to them. I had been so brainwashed by my mother and the media that I was convinced I was better than these kids. But you know what? I wasn't any better than them, I was worse. My "holier than thou" attitude only served to limit my circle of friends, something that I have come to regret.
I made fun of those "popular" girls because I wasn't confident. I didn't have their curves or their perfect smiles, and so, instead of trying to work on myself, I took the easy way out by pointing out their flaws. I didn't have time to exam my insecurities if I was pointing out someone else's. I should have been figuring out how to better myself and be happy with my body, but instead, I was too busy creating a false narrative in my head.
Now, four years later as a freshman in college, I am becoming one of those girls who follows trends. I have been making Pinterest boards and I buy my underwear from Victoria's Secret. I always like to have the essentials with me- perfume, Chapstick, and bobby pins. I wear leggings and suede skirts and black ankle boots and crop tops. I realized that the clothes a person wears doesn't define them. My hairstyle does not determine my self-worth, nor does my makeup. My ability to write an essay or ace a test does not correlate to my appearance, and neither does my self-worth.
I was a stupid kid, there's no denying that, and the people in high school that I made fun of didn't deserve my harsh words. If you were one of the students with the best shoes and the cute nails, to you I say: I'm sorry.
The "Quiet Kid"