20-Year High School Reunion? Sure! I Wasn’t Ridiculed Nearly Enough the First Time

I just received an invitation to my 20-year high school reunion. My first thought was there was no way in hell that 20 years had come and gone that quickly, but then I did the math. That’s an exaggeration, I guesstimated. Math isn’t my strongest subject. Sorry, Mrs. Herbert, you tried your best.

My second thought was, “How am I going to lose 20 pounds in a month and a half?” This was followed by my B.F.F., who we just refer to these days as Anxiety, showing up unannounced as usual. My mind whirled and I went into panic overdrive.

Let me start by saying, I am a 37-year-old mother, wife, Christian, and professional. I spent 17 years in emergency communications and could simultaneously work a five-car pile-up with injuries, a fully-engulfed house fire, and a burglary in progress and I was as calm as a summer sea. This made me want to throw up.

Watching the online conversations of those that I spent 12 years of my life with, I suddenly regressed into an overweight, oily-haired, timid, socially awkward teenager all over again. My brain began recalling the memories from that part of my life that I have spent the past two decades trying to erase. My heart began to physically ache as it remembered how many times it had to put itself back together.

Sure, everyone has difficulties during junior high and high school. It’s almost a right of passage and forges us into who we become in later chapters of our lives. But for me, it was the true definition of who I did not want to be and who I refused to continue to be once I moved on in the world.

Looking back, it’s very obvious to see how far I have come, for me anyway. It’s a given that you will recognize how much you have changed over time, but the fear struck me when I asked myself — “Will they?” Will those people that I spent so many years of my life with see me for who I am now, or who I was then?

The answer makes me hesitant to even go to the reunion, even though I am one of the few that are still local to the area. Do I even want to put forth the effort that it takes anyone with considerable anxiety to do anything social? Especially knowing that I am subjecting myself to the possibility of reverting back to where I was 20 years ago? Do I want to arrive there, feeling like I became the person that I hoped I would, only to leave feeling like the loser I was the day that I turned my tassel?

I Was No Regina George

In case it’s not obvious, I was not in the popular crowd. I had great grades, participated in all of the academic clubs, didn’t wear name-brand clothes, and was in the marching band. I can imagine in a really large school, the unpopular kids are probably not even noticed. They are probably just left alone unless something unusual happens, but in a smaller setting, you are noticed, and not in a good way.

My graduating class was 19 people. Nineteen. I was one of the least popular kids in my class of 19 people. If that doesn’t stroke your ego, what will? I fought so hard for every honor, award, or office I ever held because I had to. I couldn’t rely on popularity points to help me succeed. So if I had to pick one good thing about my high school experience, it would be that. It taught me to work hard for what I wanted because no one was just going to give it to me.

“High school was easy. It was like riding a bike. Except the bike was on fire & the ground was on fire & everything was on fire, because it was hell.”

— Randey Chung, high school senior

Do I have animosity against my classmates? Not anymore. At the time, and even after graduating, I was very bitter. I blamed certain ones for making my life hell and making me feel like I was less than a person at times. I envied those who seemed to get everything they wanted and looked the part.

I loathed high school as a whole because I felt like it perpetuated the wrongs that I suffered. But most of all, I hated myself. I hated myself for being so weak, for allowing myself to be treated like I was, and for not standing up for myself. I eventually learned how to do that as well, so I guess two good things came out of that place.

I no longer blame them, or myself. We were kids. We were young and immature and made the same stupid mistakes that teenagers have always made. It would be nice to see a day where people didn’t feel the need to put other people down to make themself feel better, but it’s human nature. Unfortunately, it will always be that way. We just have to prepare our children to be able to respond to it in a better way.

In the long run, I will be going if at all possible. I feel like I owe that to myself. I believe that I have come a long way from who I was, and if no one else sees it, well, I’m strong enough now not to give a flying flip. I believe in the overall goodness of people and I think I’ll see that there. Maturity and life experiences change your perspective and in turn changes how you treat people, especially people who were there during some of the most defining times of your life. Even if they weren’t so great.

***Note: This story was originally published on Medium.com by the author.***