I have been an outsider for the majority of my life. In elementary school, I decided to play with the boys instead of playing boring games like "house" with the girls. I loved reading and learning as much as I possibly could. I knew that there was a whole world of information out there, and I wanted to have as much of it as possible. I knew that I was different from other kids, but, instead of stifling it, I embraced it.
As I got older, kids started to notice, and not in a good way. I was relentlessly made fun of and pushed to the bottom of the social ladder, but I refused to give up who I was just in order to get people to like me. The people who really got to know me stayed by my side, and they were the kinds of people that I wanted to be friends with anyway. I had little desire to be friends with the people who saw themselves above everyone else. I didn't want to let that cruelty and judgement affect me, so I didn't.
Then I moved to Georgia, and I was not only the weird, nerdy kid who didn't care about how she looked—I was the new kid. My new elementary school had a social hierarchy unlike any other; there were cliques of every sort and strict social rules with very rigid lines. I found myself very much at the bottom of it. It was like a bad movie about social struggles in high school, but it was playing out in my childhood.
As I was moving into the sixth grade, I realized that the girls at the top of the social ladder were always complaining about how dumb school was and how they were never satisfied with how they looked. I had gotten so tired of the bullying by this point that I was desperate to join the "elite" clique of my grade, so I started dumbing myself down and focusing on how I looked in an attempt to wedge myself into their circle. Eventually, it sort of worked, and I lived on the outskirts of the circle, but I was incredibly unhappy. I thought that gaining the protection of their social prestige would keep the bullying at bay, and it did for a while.
However, the girls in the circle were vicious towards each other. They pointed out each others' flaws in order to try to stake their claim as alpha, and some of them started heavily dieting. There was this twisted sense that being the most elite would bring them happiness and the ability to control others, but the reality was that it was never good enough for any of them. It was the first time that I hadn't stayed true to who I was, and it was devastating.
Going into middle school, I decided that I was going to go back to being myself, and I made friends based on similar interests rather than social status. People liked me for who I was. The bullying was tolerable because I knew that I had the support of people who liked me for my real self. Then the following year, one of my former friends went through an incredibly difficult time at home and proceeded to take all of his anger out on me. Every day at lunch, he sat across from me, listed my flaws, and tried to convince me that everyone truly would be better off without me. This emotional abuse carried on throughout the year, but when I brought it up to my other friends, they either refused to believe it or just didn't know what to do about it, because they still saw him as one of our friends. Because of this, he remained in circles of mutual friends of ours throughout my entire time in high school.
During this time I became depressed. I lashed out at everyone around me, because I was mad at the world. I used the stereotypes that I had learned in elementary school as an excuse to hate "the popular kids" and refused to associate with anyone who I believed to willingly follow that strict social hierarchy. This caused those people to avoid associating with me, and I felt the rejection that I had imposed upon myself in an attempt to protect myself from rejection. The effects of this carried on into the later grades, until I realized that I didn't have to be so angry at everyone and everything.
As I came to this realization, I started opening up more and changing the relationships that I had with the people around me. I was a much happier person, and I found myself with several unexpected friendships. But I still felt like an outsider, because everyone else always had a few other people that they were closer to than they were to me. It was wonderful to have so many friends, but I felt like everyone's third or fourth choice for things—rather than the first—which continued to reinforce the feeling of being an outsider.
This same dilemma followed me to Georgia Tech. I have a large amount of friends—and three particularly close ones—but I feel like I haven't completely found the right group of people yet. I thought that I would find it when I joined color guard, because shared interests typically facilitate friendships; however I felt disconnected from the majority of the girls from the very beginning, because, although we all loved color guard, we really didn't have much in common. I felt more like a chameleon on the outskirts of a few social circles, fitting into each one, but just not completely belong in any of them. I also felt very judged by some of the supposed friends in these various circles, because they didn't like particular aspects of my personality. Although it wasn't bullying, I still felt rejection.
Then I went to the only place where I felt as though I have been completely accepted—an eating disorder treatment center. I have only been here for a week, but I have met people with incredible stories and so much love to give to others. They all accept me for who I am, and I genuinely feel loved and cared for by all of them. I am not ashamed to talk to them about my story, my emotions, or the honest answer to how I am doing on a day to day basis. Everyone here has faced such exceptional rejection and loss; they honestly know what I have been through and what I continue to face regularly.
On one level, it is so incredibly sad to know that the first place where I have felt a complete sense of belonging is in a treatment center. But all of us know that feeling, so how could any of us not welcome someone who has suffered such similar circumstances? There has been so much hurt experienced by myself and the other residents, but nearly every person here feels an overwhelming desire to not just be completely accepted for themselves, but to spread their love and acceptance to others. Surely a person doesn't need to face rejection in order to be accepting.
As individuals, we need to strive to be open minded and accepting of every person that we meet. We don't know each others' struggles, but we have all had our own, so we need to include rather than exclude. Any change that a person makes in this behavior towards people then starts a cycle of change. If multiple individuals become more accepting, it will spread to others, and there will be a change within communities and society rather than just a change between individuals.
Challenge your thinking. Don't let your initial judgments of people influence how you treat them, and then learn to challenge those judgments until you don't automatically make them anymore. Be open minded, accept others, and help put more love into our world.
