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Nope. Not Today.

I Chose Love

By Whitney McLeodPublished 3 years ago 7 min read
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When I was a little girl my father lost his job. Months passed without luck of finding a new position in our city so he had to start the search wider a-field. Then it came: counsellor for a kindergarten to grade twelve school in northern Alberta. After long discussions in hushed voices, my parents made the decision for him to take the position. He left weeks later. My mother, older brother and I followed 6 months later.

I could say small-town living was difficult, but we weren’t even in a small town. Our house was nestled in a quarter-section of forest, off a township road with no name or number, 30 minutes from the nearest town. We were technically living in a hamlet, but since their general store closed in the early eighties the hamlet was taken off the map - last seen published in 1986.

Our nearest neighbours were a fifteen minute walk up the dirt road. Next after that, a thirty minute walk. Suffice to say that my brother and I had to take a bus to school which was an hour ride to and from each day.

My first year in our new school went ok. My brother and I were in a shared class of grade fours and threes. We mostly kept to ourselves, but made a few friends - including the twin girls who were our nearest neighbours.

But then things changed. The school districts decided to trade schools and what grades were offered at each. My brother and I no longer shared a classroom and were split in grades four and five. And we were sent to a different school because Donnelly no longer offered elementary grades. So off to Vanier in an even further town we went.

Time passed. I did ok for a while and made a few friends in my own grade. But then SHE moved to town. Megan.

Up until this point I had been quite a commodity in the district. The only blonde and blue-eyed girl for miles. And I came in and swept away the academic competition. I found out many years later that most of the kids were afraid to talk to me because I was so smart, well-behaved, and just plain different. In a sea of brown hair, brown eyes and underachievement, I was scary; was I what all city kids were like? How could anyone compete?

Then there was Megan. Blonde. Blue-eyed. Average. She came in and was immediately accessible to all the kids because of her plainness. She was outgoing, loud, crass, and a C grade student at best. She fit right in.

All the kids flocked to her and all of a sudden I was the outsider again. The few friends I had made up to this point began to abandon me. And I soon found out why: Megan felt threatened by me. Someone who looked so similar to her but who was so superior to her in intelligence, manors, and athletics was not acceptable to her. And I was a thing to be crushed.

To this day I don’t know what I did other than simply existing in the same space as her. I don’t know if there was a triggering event that led to my ejection from acceptable society, but whether there was one or not, I was still well out of favour to everyone.

I was bullied. Made fun of. Picked last or just plain not included at all. The few friends I had turned on me. Even the twins who had been good friends to me for 3 years now began to pick on me. One even beat me up on our bus-ride home from school one day - for what, I had no clue.

Megan rode the same bus as the twins and I and they became close. Slowly all the kids on the bus turned on me and I took to sitting at the very front behind the driver so I couldn’t be picked on or beat up. Mr. Oudette was a great man for protecting me the way he did.

Kids on the bus took to tossing hateful notes at me: “Loser”, “Go [expletive] a dog”, “You’re ugly”, “Go die”. I endured months of it. Keeping every note and punishing myself for existing. Wishing every day that I would just not wake up and therefore avoid the torment.

But one day, something changed. Something broke inside me. Snapped. I’d had enough. Today I wasn’t going to take it.

At this point the notes had become bi-daily page-long hate-filled diatribes on my supposed awfulness. Big ugly lettering. No ability to spell or form proper sentences to speak of. So I decided these stupid, mean people needed help.

That day, and for only two bus rides following, the notes came as usual: thrown at the back of my head. But that day, rather than open it with shaking hands and teary eyes, I rummaged in my backpack and pulled out a red pen. Pen to paper I edited their hateful note for spelling and grammar, marked it with a big circled “F”, crumpled it back into a ball, and tossed it with gusto over my shoulder. I heard a lot of cursing and “What the [bleep]”s from the back of the bus. I got two more notes after that on the successive bus rides. Corrected them both, heard more cursing, and then the notes stopped. Finally I had peace on my rides.

With this small triumph I gained some confidence back. I no longer cared that I was picked last in gym class - because whoever ended up with me on their team always got an athletic and enthusiastic player. Soon I wasn’t the last one picked any longer. I was considered an asset and not a hindrance.

I decided to audition for the school Christmas musical and got the lead role - much to the dismay and tantrums of Megan who was cast as an extra with no lines and was strongly encouraged NOT to sing. The play was a big success and we performed for a handful of other schools in the area. I got one solo. And after every performance I was bombarded by teachers and parents that came to me and told me how well I had done and how beautifully I sang. I had never received such praise. It was overwhelming.

Shortly after the musical ended, so did school for the Christmas holidays. And when January came I had transferred to a new school in another town. That decision had been a long-time coming because of how things had been for me there. My parents and I decided I should transfer and attend the school my father was a counsellor at.

Things improved significantly for me there. My academic abilities were celebrated, I joined the basketball team and was chosen as captain. I wasn’t one of the popular kids but they all liked me and I was all of a sudden INCLUDED. I was accepted. And it felt good.

Much to my surprise, after I left my old school, I suddenly became COOL to the people I’d left behind. The twins made an effort to be my friends again and I was invited back to their school dances. Kids I didn’t know knew who I was and I was often referred to as “that girl who sang that song”. Apparently the musical and my performance had made a huge impact on all those who had seen it. I had value to these people I left behind. And by leaving with no word or warning I became an enigma, a rumour, someone talked about for - apparently - years and years after.

I heard Megan moved away in our tenth grade year. Her parents split up and she was whisked away by her mother to some other town far from her adoring fans. I forgot about her for years. I let go of the hurt and the hate I had felt because of her. Then, one day, back in 2007 or 2008, she added me as a friend on Facebook. I can’t describe to you the amount of pleasure and level of closure I got from simply hitting “DECLINE”.

I can’t say my life was all sunshine and rainbows back then after my move to a different school. But I learned a valuable lesson during my time with those people and from Megan. I couldn’t let others crush me because of my individuality. Just because there were people who felt threatened by my differentness didn’t mean that there weren’t people out there who would appreciate me.

I stood up for myself. Pursued my passions. Tuned out the hate. I chose to believe in myself when others didn’t. I remembered I had value even if others around me didn’t agree. I chose to like myself. I chose love.

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