5

"If you wait long enough, the truth comes out."

Somebody said that once about me. I don't lie, it's not that. It's just that I like to take my time when it comes to telling the whole thing. I guess this one has been a long time coming.

 

This is going to be annoying. I am going to really get on your nerves with what I'm about to talk about. I'm going to get under you skin like a fungal infection.

You need to know what I used to be like. I've conveniently ommited it from my story. Just sort of skipped on over it. Yes I told you how lost and dumb and weak and confused I was. I told you how easy I was. But what you don't know is how conceited I was when I was a teenager.

I know how I got that way. It was a big cover-up. It all started when we moved from my sweet little existence in Oak Cliff to the big harsh realities of public school in DeSoto.

In private school in Oak Cliff, I had my issues, but I also knew who I was. I was the quiet sweet artistic little nerd who the teachers loved and praised in front of all the other kids, making them sick. I got made fun of. I had friends, but they were loners like me. And you already know about the whole foot ordeal.

So upon moving to a new town and a new school, I decided to turn my life around. I decided I was not going to start off on the wrong foot. I was not going to be ridiculed. I was going to change everything.

I entered public school at the age of 11. 6th grade. I immediately scoped the premesis and discovered who was cool and who was not. I watched. I paid attention. I learned to dress the right way (never had to worry about clothes or fashion up until this point, thanks to private school uniforms.)

By 7th grade, it was smooth sailing. Over the summer I somehow blossomed. I entered 7th grade and suddenly I was getting interesting new looks from the boys. I developed my own kooky valley girl style and soon enough, other girls were actually copying me! The popular ones, at that! I used all of my resources, and found a way to use my artistic abilities to gain more friends. One day in English, I got out a piece of drawing paper and a nice pencil, and proceeded to draw a lifelike rendering of two gay guys. In the act. And I mean, IN THE ACT. Don't ask me how I even knew what that looked like. I just guessed. As I drew, I noticed people on either side of me, watching. A few started to laugh. I'll never forget this day. Before you know it, they were passing my drawing around the whole classroom, laughing hysterically, looking at me with wide eyes. Some were saying how good of a drawing it was, others were just shocked to see what I drew. I really didn't care what they were saying. The point was, my mission was accomplished. They noticed me. For reasons that were cool. I can't tell you how many friends I won that day.

Guys starting swarming around me. My friends started getting jealous of me. I found myself in a few kitten fights. One of my best friends didn't speak to me for a while because her boyfriend told her that he wanted her to start making her hair look like mine.

I found the attention I wanted. And I maintained it, all through high school.

I rode the waves of vanity, pride, and conceit. These are what carried me through. Not good, wholesome character traits. I left those behind at private school with the nuns, where they belonged.

In 8th grade I won class president of my history class, as a joke. I ran, just to see if I would win. My opponent was serious about it. He made a whole speech on how he would improve the class. My speech? All I did was get up there and announce to the class, "If you vote for me, and I win, my mom will bring pizza up here for the whole class."

I won. They thought it was funny. And this was a project on the whole political system. We had been working on it for a few weeks, starting out with several "candidates", and it got narrowed down to myself and the other kid.  I informed my mom that she had to feed my entire class pizza, and she did. I'll never forget the look on my opponent's face. He was truly hurt. He knew (along with everyone else) that I was just goofing off. I looked at him and just shrugged my shoulders and laughed.

This is how I was. Anything for a laugh. Anything for popularity. Anything for "good" attention.  I thought that as long as I kept up the act, they'd never discover who I really was.

High school was a blast. My competitive spirit grew into a beast. Art was my domain and any new talented students were a threat to my kingdom. I worked for, and won, the coveted Art IV award that is given to one senior each year, at the end of the year. It represented 4 years of excelling in art. It was almost as if I thought it was mine already.

At the end of the year, the class favorites are chosen. I was nominated in every category, but didn't win any of them. My English teacher pulled me aside one day after school and told me, "Amy, you need to know something. I saw the ballots and I saw the scores. You had more votes than any other girl in the class, but the problem was, they were spread out in four different categories- most talented, most beautiful, most witty, and most friendly. More people voted for you than anyone else. Just thought you'd like to know that."

I laughed, and acted like I didn't care.

But deep inside, I was amazed. I had no idea my scheme had really panned out. My disguise. My act. It had grown into something unnatural. What started off as a simple ploy to cover up my true self, grew into my whole personality. I'm not saying I wasn't any of those things. I was kind. But the others were a joke. The others were all an attempt to be important. It wasn't me. But the problem was, it was too late. I was so used to the attention that I received, I almost expected it.

At one time, I was a sweet and loving and humble little girl.

And now, I looked in the mirror. What had I become?

Vain. Arrogant. Conceited. Competitive, and not in a good way. Proud. Shallow. Self-centered.

I bet you didn't know any of this. Some people tell me how humble I am. How I live so simple and how easily contented I am. How un-materialistic I am. How I never put on airs. I hardly wear makeup. My hair is natural. I'm transparent. I show my belly. I lay low. On purpose. And there's a really good reason why.

I am avoiding myself. My old self.

There is more to this whole story than you think.