Not that bad

As a child, I was kicked out of a doctors office because I was “so bad.” Screaming, crying, and throwing fits didn’t get me far at all. I was labeled “bad” then. I would throw tantrums constantly, from what I’m told. I wouldn’t be sociaI, or want to engage in anything outside my family or home. My expressions and emotions caused problems for everyone. Yet, I always wondered why there was no help? Answers for that have been that I would refuse or fight it, but something was obviously wrong. No one heard what those cries really meant?

I lacked, or lack, the skills needed to make friends, so I rarely had any. It didn’t take me long to realize just how lacking I truly was, either.

During elementary school, a bomb threat was made, random, I know, so we were transported to another school. I hadn’t been there since I finished 3rd grade, and it all felt so tiny and foreign. When we reached the cafeteria where they were holding us, everyone was allowed to sit with whoever they wanted. No one wanted to sit with me, I guess, because I ended up standing alone searching for a smile and a hand wave over that never came. There was not one person who thought, “Hey, where is so and so?”Let’s save this seat for them, or, there is so and so, let’s go sit over there!”

Nothing.

There was not 1 single kid who thought of/about me at all. It was one of the most terrible awakenings I have still experienced to this day. I was so young and alone in that moment… I still feel the embarrassment and loneliness in my bones. The realization of not having a person was plain out sad. So sad.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I just sat alone, near some kids, by the window.

I was so bad that kids didn’t even like me? I was told to behave in school. Be quiet and respectful. Dont talk back, talk only if spoken to type of thing. Everyone had something to say… to talk about, except me. I listened to the kids nearest to me play a game that seemed like a lot of fun. No one asked me to play, so I just listened and pretended not to care. I felt like I was doing the right thing by being good and quiet. It was so loud in there, and the teachers kept yelling to shush the volume level down. At least I wasn’t part of making the teachers mad, right? That note seemed to make it all a little better for me.

Throughout my early years in school, I continued to barely speak, had no actual friends, and didn’t contribute to anything. Being good, not heard, and listening with a nervous smile made life easier for the adults around me. My mom was proud of me.

I wasn’t bad anymore. I was the sweet, shy, quiet girl who everyone adored. See, I’m not that bad!