The Note

The somewhat funny story about the earliest turning point of my life.

We all have those turning points in our lives. Those moments that we look back on years later and realize if that one thing never happened, our lives would have ended up completely different.

            The earliest turning point I can remember happened when I was twelve years old. My best friends at the time were considered “the popular crowd” and I was considered one of them. We would have sleepovers and do school projects together. I used to think that being friends meant constantly competing with each other over everything and making secret alliances with each other while talking behind other “friends” backs. 

            That was until the fateful day when my best friend...we'll call her jenny... wrote me a nasty note in true preteen fashion. In the note she called me four and five letter names that she didn’t even fully know the meaning of yet. She told me that none of my friends liked me and they never did. Then she got our entire group of friends to sign their name.         

            I remember leaving my desk for a moment and when I came back the note was inside, poking out so I would notice it right away. I read it right there immediately feeling the heat rise through my neck and ears and the stinging in my nose that usually preceded tears. I looked around at my “friends” for some kind of indication that maybe it was all a joke. None of them would make eye contact with me and I remember the smug, bitchy look on Jenny's face when I turned around.

            To this day I wonder why they picked me. I mean, I was no different than them but for some reason they felt like I was the one they needed to be rejected from “the group.” Maybe because I was an easy target, maybe because they knew I wouldn't fight back. Maybe they just needed to feel better about themselves. I have no idea, but I suppose you don’t really need an excuse when twelve year old girls are involved. My mom is still convinced Jenny was just jealous because my family had just come back from Disney World and her family was too poor to go anywhere. Moms will say anything when they think it will make you feel better. 

            The next recess was absolute torture. Everyone I hung out with was avoiding me like the plague and I was all alone. Probably the most alone I have ever felt in my life. It took everything in me not to cry. Not to show them how much they hurt me.

            I remember sitting under a tree when my little sister, who is three years younger than me, saw me sitting all alone and probably looking pretty sad and pathetic despite my best efforts. She came and sat down beside me and asked me what was wrong. I told her about the note and, as she became absolutely furious.

             Before I go on I have to say that my sister and I are completely opposite in every way. As kids and even now in our twenties we tend to butt heads over our extreme differences. While I am typically non-confrontational, Jordan is definitely a fighter.           Despite her size, Jordan has never been afraid of anyone or anything and would never put up with anyone picking on the underdog, especially when her family is involved. When I got the note my first reaction was to just accept my fate as the outcast in order to avoid further pissing anyone off. Jordan's first reaction on the other hand was, “I'm going to punch that big stink-head right in the eye!” (she was nine)

She immediately grabbed me and went storming off through the playground to find Jenny and her posse. I don't remember exactly what was said but I will always remember Jordan picking a worm up off the ground and hurling it into Jenny’s snotty face. The piercing scream which emanated from Jenny’s was incredibly satisfying and all the girls ran away.

            I hung out with Jordan for the rest of the day. On any other day I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a Grade 3, but on that particular day I couldn’t have been prouder that she was my sister. To this day, no matter how much we fight, I can think back to that day and know she’s still my sister and she would still do anything for me. And I for her.

                        When school was over and our mom came to pick us up I showed her the note and told her what happened. In terms of personality my mom and sister are twins. She reacted in a very similar way to Jordan, though no invertebrates were caught in the cross fire. First she went storming in to talk to my teacher, who of course was no help at all. Then she peeled out of the parking lot looking to catch Jenny on her way home from school to give her a piece of her mind.

            My imagination may be exaggerating things so many years later but I seem to recall my mom racing down the street with a crazed look in her eye like Cruella Deville, looking from sidewalk to sidewalk.     When her radar found its target, my mom all but pulled up on the sidewalk in front of her like a stunt woman. With barely enough time to throw our minivan into park, my mother leaped out and proceeded to scream obscenities at a twelve year old girl. My mother never dealt very well with people being bullied either.

            Needless to say any chance of regaining a friendship with the girls who signed the note was obliterated as they were far too terrified of my family to even speak to me. We spent the rest of public school together up until we graduated high school. They stayed “the popular girls” and I began hanging out with others who had been rejected. I never got an apology from any of them and though over the years tensions eased and most of them had probably forgotten all about the incident completely, I have never forgotten it.

            Now you may be thinking, that wasn’t much of a turning point, that was just girls being girls. So I feel the logical conclusion would be how my life changed afterward and how my life would have been if I had stayed friends with them.

            After I lost all my friends I recall a feeling of starting over. There was a girl I was friends with outside of the “popular” circle. Her name was Lisa and she lived down the street from my Dads house so we would hang out whenever I spent the weekend there. She was kind of a strange girl so she never really fit in with the friends I hung out with at school but after being rejected by my old friends she accepted me with open arms. Lisa and I quickly became inseparable and were best friends all the way through high school where we shared and incredible number of experiences together. Eventually we joined up with a group of kids who felt exactly like we did; a little weird and not completely accepted by our peers. It wasn’t coincidence that later on a few of them came out to be gay or lesbian. If it wasn’t for the friends I had I would not have experienced half of the crazy wild stuff I did as a teenager.

            Growing up with the people I was close to taught me to be humble and accepting of others. To appreciate the outcasts of this world for what they have to offer just as much as the jocks and mean girls of this world. I learned that being friends didn't mean jealousy, backstabbing and one-upmanship but loving and supporting each other.

            When I imagine how my life would have been if I stayed friends with those girls I can’t help but cringe. First of all the drama never stopped with those girls after I left. All throughout high school they were stealing each other’s boyfriends, getting in massive b***h fights and spreading rumors about each other. Suffice to say they never grew up much since grade six.

            After high school most of them went off two one of two universities. If I had stayed friends with them I would have probably gone too. I would have never gone to Laurier. I would have never moved to Waterloo and I would have never met the love of my life.

            If this story has taught you nothing take from it these words of wisdom. If something seems horrible and hopeless at the time, just wait. Be it weeks, months or years, eventually you will understand its purpose in the greater scheme of your life. Everything is a matter of perception.

Reviews

[Mr. Color Blind]

I liked the memory you describe here. It is very earthy, real. The only thing I disagree with is the last paragraph. I feel it pulls me in a direction different than the "road" I was going down throughout the narrative. The narrative itself forced me to look back and think about similar experiences in childhood. But for some reason, I endured them longer, till they got so bad I told my parents I wanted to go to a boarding school. That was my turning point where I decided to be honest and to this day my closest friends are the ones I found there. Thanks for sharing. Good to recall these things.

[HayleyLemore]

You are an awesome writer! Very detailed and clear and concise which is huge in itself. Your topic is very interesting and moves along at a nice pace, very comfortable for the reader. The only thing I can say is, "Where is the dialog?" I'm a huge advocate of dialog telling the story rather than all narrative. We can see into their minds when the well formed character demands, cries or huffs. And then their movement can be seen outside the tags of dialog. Such as whirling around, grabbing or reaching.
Keep writing!
Hayley

[S.Lee]

Thank you for your very helpful review Hayley. I'm glad you liked it. I come from a writing background that is mostly journals and poetry so creating dialogue isn't always my first thought. I'm glad you brought it up. I think today I will challenge myself with writing a completely dialogue based piece and see what happens. Hope you're having a great day.