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Worst Year of My Life

A Story of Seventh Grade

By Miss. JPublished 6 years ago 8 min read
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Seventh grade, what I used to think was the worst year of my life. Seriously, I did.

It was a new school, new town, new people, and even a new house. My mother had been in a serious relationship with a man for about a year or so, and they had decided to move in together. Ace is a farmer, so it’s not like he could just pack up his cattle and come live with my mother, brother, and me.

Nope, we moved to his hometown, a town only 45 minutes from my hometown. I had promised my mother I would try going to the school for one year, and I did.

I used to be the girl who tried to please everyone, who hated criticism, and who just couldn’t say ‘no’. The reason I say that I used to be that girl, is because being at that school changed me. I didn’t know it at the time, but it changed me in a good way.

Here’s how.

I remember my first day, all of the girls where so nice to me, and the boys would nicely say hi and welcomed me. The teachers where glad to see a new face, and I was excited to be there. The first day of school I had even thought I had made a new friend, and my mother was so happy when I asked if I could go over to that girl’s house.

Things where looking up, but for some reason, I don’t know why or how, but everything was turned upside down for me. This isn’t your typical I-got-shoved-into-a-locker bullying story. I was never shoved into a locker, but rather I was shunned away.

And there was one girl leading the charge, and for my own personal reasons, I’m leaving out names. To make it easier I’ll call her Andy, and for the girl I thought was my friend, I’ll call her May. (Keep in mind these are not their real names)

I thought this girl (Andy) was going to be my friend, she always complemented me on my jeans when I’d walk in, and of course everyone would turn and look at me. I would smile and thank her, appreciating the nice complement. To this day I don’t know if she ever meant it or if she was trying to embarrass me, but that doesn’t matter.

Seventh grade four-square is probably one of the most brutal games that takes place on a Middle School playground, especially when you are the new girl. If someone doesn’t like you, they will make it impossible for you to hit the ball and you’ll end up getting out.

It doesn’t sound like a big deal, but when all of the girls look at you and giggle, it’s more than just embarrassing. It hurts, and it hurts even worse when the girl you had ‘made friends’ with on the first day is giggling with them.

It would make me so angry, that instead of blowing up, I did what my father told me to do. Just walk away. That’s what I would do, I’d go sit on the swings by myself and watch the boys play football. Things were starting to heat up for me.

I would try to talk to my mother about what was happening, how I was starting to feel like I was being picked on, and she’d just tell me I was the one being a brat and that I needed to learn to control my temper. She made it seem like I was the bully, when I knew I wasn’t. So I never told her anything, because I knew what she’d say.

Instead I’d tell my dad, or my grandmother. That would help a little, but I didn’t get to talk to them very much, so I would keep it to myself. It was like I was taking little drops of water and storing them into a jar. By the time I had had the chance to see either of them, the jar had already begun to overflow, and I’d begin whimpering, or crying so hard I couldn’t breathe.

Then, one day I was paired with this boy in class. We were partners for a project and we ‘clicked.’ We understood each other, and soon after that he introduced me to his best friend. These are two names I will mention.

Braedon and Dillon. Dillon had been the boy who had been my partner, and Braedon his best friend. I had already talked with Braedon a few times, but thanks to Dillon, the three of us were actually brought together as friends.

They’d jokingly say they were mad at me, since all three of us were in band and I played the flute. The boys played the trumpet. “If you played the trumpet, then we could be the three trumpeters!” they’d say. Braedon would call us the “Three Amigos.” Thanks to those two, it made the tough times with that group of girls a little easier.

Both of them did their best to make me laugh and get my mind off of it. They could tell when something was wrong, and during our art class, all I would have to do is say “Andy.” and they wouldn’t ask anymore. Instead I would usually look up to see Braedon making a silly face, or Dillon telling a joke.

They didn’t try to protect me, but they did teach me that sometimes in a bad situation, there’s always a little hope. And they were my ‘little hope’. I don’t speak with them much anymore, but those two goofballs will always have a special place in my heart.

My mother eventually came around to seeing what was really happening, and it’s a night I will never forget. I’m not going to go into much detail, but the story in a nutshell is; Andy was being terrible to me. She wouldn’t let up, I broke down in tears. May helped, and the church school teacher sat there and watched. She didn’t know what to do.

My dad (the church school teacher for my brother’s grade) had seen the aftermath of that, he was beyond furious. But the real plot twist, comes when I got back to my mother’s house, my father close behind me. I was still in tears.

I walked in, and my mother took one look at me and her face went pale. I told her what happened, and that is when she finally understood that her daughter was the victim in the world of seventh grade girls. My stepfather, Ace listened to me, too. When I finished, he left the house.

Ace’s hometown is a very small town, and he is probably one of the most-liked people in that town. He’s one of the most lovable, and one of the toughest S.O.Bs I’ve ever met. Ace was and is respected there.

He went to the house of both May and Andy and talked with their parents about what their daughters had done to his stepdaughter. This was a big moment for me, when I found out what he had done. He had stood up for me, and protected me. Not every stepfather would do that, especially when their stepdaughter is such a devoted Daddy’s Girl. Keep in mind, my own father had done everything he could for me as well.

Now I could go into more detail, but I won’t, because my bawling on the phone to my best friend isn’t the point of this story.

After that year was finished, I was re-enrolled back in my hometown’s public school. I changed, I no longer tried to impress everyone, and I learned to stand up for myself. May and Andy helped me grow a backbone. Now, I wasn’t some cruel heartless person afterwards, I was still me. I was still happy, and I had true friends that surrounded me with laughs and goofy faces.

However, I no longer tried to be a people pleaser, and I learned that sometimes, certain people just aren’t worth all of the drama and the crap. I had become a stronger person, and I was able to let some of the mean things that a certain girl said to me or about me roll off my shoulder.

I learned the difference between someone who you think is your friend, and who a true friend is.

But there is also something else. Ever heard the phrase forgive and forget? It’s hard to forgive, and it’s impossible to forget. Yet, forgiving will make you feel so much better. When you do forgive, it’s like a weight lifted off your shoulders. But that takes time, and that’s ok.

I forget a lot of things, but this is one thing I probably never will forget. I’ll never forget Braedon or Dillon or May or Andy. I won’t forget the teachers who tried to help, or the family that supported me. I may forget the words that were said and the rumors that were spread, but I won’t forget the way I was treated.

I won’t forget how it made me stronger, and how what I thought was the end of my world was just the beginning. So to the Seventh Grade outcasts out there, hear me out. Yes, mine only lasted a year, and yes I have a supportive family that would move mountains for me.

Even if you don’t have the support I had, or your pain is still there, you’re still being bullied; your time will come. It will all end, but I can’t tell you when or how. You’re stronger than you think you are. Keep your head up, and look forward. Keep your smile, your laugh, don’t give in. Life’s crazy, it gets harder, but oh is it worth it.

I’m now 23 years old, and going to college to be a teacher.

Well that’s it, that’s the story of what used to be the worst year of my life.

Seventh grade, not the best year of my life, but it was the year that changed my life for the better.

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About the Creator

Miss. J

I'm a college student from small town Nebraska. My major is Elementary Education with an endorsement in k-6 special education. I'm a bit of a nerd too, but really I'm just a 23 year old who's trying to figure out this thing called "LIFE" :)

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