I Fallen And I Can't Get Up

Looking back, I enjoyed my time in middle school. Grades sixth through eighth is a time for growth, puberty, and having a crush or two. Puppy-love hit me like a ton of bricks in the sixth grade until this day, and I don't regret it one bit. For security purposes, we'll name him "James," James was considered the popular guy in school in the sixth grade, and being labeled popular brought so much power and exposure. Like most young girls, I fell into the trap of following the flock. I've always been private with my crushes. I never bragged about who I liked because, frankly, I didn't trust anyone withholding my secret. I just professed my love by scribbling in my notebook along with my jar full of hope, hoping that one day he would eventually like me back.

Our school system planned the school year based on quarters, so we have new classes every first week of the new quarter. This particular quarter I found out that I shared gym class with James. My heart skipped a beat when I looked down at my schedule and overheard him talking to his friends about his classes. Our school also implemented the school uniform system, which means we all wore white tops and navy-blue pants. I decided to ditch my pants for a high-fashioned skort (shorts and skirt) on this particular day. The weather was low 70s with a light breeze. My day was running smoothly until P.E.

Before we get into any physical activities, our P.E coach would tell us to run a lap to warm up our bodies. Being in the sixth grade, we had to participate in P.E in our school uniforms. Lower classman had to wait until the seventh grade to obtain P.E clothes, which was the silliest rule of all rules. The boys played hard, and the girls prevented themselves from sweating. The P.E teacher announced that we would be playing softball, and during that time, I was active playing softball after school. I would play on Saturdays and go back to practice on Mondays. Finally, there was something I wanted to participate in doing. Looking back, I was a cocky undercover kid. I wanted to join in this game, skort and all. My friends wanted to sit, laugh, and gossip, and I wanted to play with the boys. Mainly to prove that I'm capable and I'm so much more than a pretty face in front of my crush.

Somewhere along the lines, I ended up on first base, and the guy behind me hit the ball between second and shortstop, which was the green light to run as fast as I could to make it to second base. Halfway through my run, I found myself losing my balance and falling face-first in the dirt. As I raised my head from the dirt to my left, I saw James staring at me. I don't remember if he laughed, but his stare was in pure confusion as to how I tripped myself. As I stood up feeling like a chalkboard eraser, I looked down and noticed my shoelaces were untied. I quickly sat my wannabe Olympic behind down and waited until class was over. Crisp white shirt covered in dirt—ponytails filled with and dust. Once P.E was over, I rushed to the bathroom to gather my embarrassment. Let us insert the fact that my legs were covered in abrasions with little rocks partying inside. I still had to walk with my head held high because it was only the fourth period, and the day was just getting started. I don't remember if I had a jacket or given a loaner shirt to wear, but I had to suck it up and push forward.

I anxiously waited for the 2 pm bell to run home and allow my mom to give me a pity party. I told her what happened, and of course, she nursed my injuries. I didn't tell her who I fell in front of; I just wanted to let her know that I fell. Once I entered the bathroom to take a shower, I cried my sixth-grade eyes out. Using that time to wash off the embarrassment opens the flood gates of my negative self-talk. I called myself dumb, stupid, clumsy, failure, etc. All over a snot-nosed boy. That incident started a snowball effect of my low self-esteem and how I viewed myself as a young lady. The simple fact that I couldn't run was enough to make me mature faster than the universe intended. From that moment on, I made myself appear small so situations like that would never happen again. I no longer participated in any physical activity activities, and I became withdrawn and muted, almost invisible to everyone.

Besides, once I entered the seventh grade, I found a new interest *Shawn* and forgot James existed.

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