Ugly Duckling

Most of us go through our “ugly duckling” phase. At some point in our lives we are the ugly, weird, and goofy social outcast. We are the person that you don’t want to associate with if you value your oh-so-important reputation. I went through this phase for what seemed like forever, and in all honesty I’m not really over it yet. In grade school I was the fat kid, a poor kid in comparison to the rich ones surrounding me at my private Catholic school, the brainy kid (mature far beyond my years), and the teacher’s pet. Mrs. Rollins was my third grade teacher, and she took pity on me. I was a nice kid; I cared about others and did my best to help people. I was kind to those around me, even when they were mean to me. I got made fun of constantly from the beginning of 3rd grade when I moved to Logansport until about the middle of 4th grade year. The culprits were always the same two girls. Nicky and Aubrey were cruel to me all the time. They would call me fat, ugly, stupid, geeky, and any other painful things they could come up with at 12. At recess when everyone else was playing I would either stay inside and help the teachers or stand in the small space between the steps and the church next to the school. No one really talked to me and the teachers thought I was just an introvert and made no effort to get me involved. Mrs. Rollins was someone I could talk to about anything. I told her all about my Mom, brothers, pets, past, hopes, dreams, and how I was feeling. She always listened and helped me when she could. When I stopped caring about school she pushed me to turn in my work and use my brain. Some days I went into the bathroom and cried because their words stung so deep. I was young, and thought that the reason my Dad wasn’t there had something to do with me, and if only I had been prettier he would have stayed (I know now it makes no sense). Mom worked nights and was busy with two kids and a baby. Some nights I would go home and cry and she would hold me. I would tell her all the things they said and how much it hurt. Mom went into the school and talked with the principle and the teachers, they talked with the girls. That made things worse. They called me even more names, and now I was a crybaby on top of it all. I went home and told Mom. She told me this, “The next time that one of them says something mean to you, then tell them that if they ever say anything like that to you again you will punch them in the face. Jerra, if they do, you can punch them, you have my permission.” I was shocked, my Mom had just told me to hit someone. She had had enough. I guess there were some advantages to being taller than everyone else and big. This was about mid-year in 4th grade. A week later we were sitting in class and Mrs. Riggle was reading us a story. I had answered a question and Nicky had said something to the effect of “Oh so you’re fat and smart huh?” I stood up, hands on my hips, and yelled at her and Aubrey, “I’ve had enough, and I can’t take it anymore. Nicky if you ever say anything mean to me ever again I will punch you in the face.” I then proceeded to run out of the room, I never wanted to let them see me cry. After about 5 minutes the principle came to get me. I was brought down to the office to wait for my Mom. I explained the situation and what Mom had said. When Mom got there she talked with the principle and teacher fairly heatedly. The girls never said anything mean to me ever again, and we even became friends before I left in the 6th grade. When Mom and I got in the car that day, she hugged me and told me that I was very brave and she was proud of me. We moved to Arizona when I was in the 6th grade. I was so angry because I was finally at a point where I felt like I fit in and I was happy. We moved despite my protests and promises of eternal hatred. We lived on an Indian reservation. I had finally started to thin out a bit, learned how to use make-up, and carry myself with some confidence. The first school I went to was a nightmare. The boys were cruel and disgusting. They made sexual comments and harassed me every day at lunch and on the bus to and from school. I was there for about 3 weeks, maybe longer. Some boy on the bus wrote a fowl and sexually explicit note to me (remember I had gone to Catholic school and led a fairly sheltered life as far as knowing about sex). Mom was livid (I must add that this boys idea of an insult was to call me a “big white onion” which he spelled wrong). The next morning she marched into school with me and we went right to the principle. She yelled and screamed and used words I knew I was not allowed to use. We got my stuff and my transcripts and we left. I would now go to school in Chinle, which was 30 minutes away, but a better school. The principle decided I was way ahead of everyone else and let me skip 6th grade and put me in 7th. The first day of school I met Grant. He was an older man, an 8th grader. He was tall, skinny, one of the 3 white kids in the school other than myself, and had flaming red hair. He was a teacher’s assistant in my world history class. From the moment we met, we liked each other. He would walk with me to and from class, eat lunch with me, and sit with me all the time. He was qwerky and strange, but I adored him. He finally asked me out at a dance, we always danced together at dances. We went out for a long time. My friends made fun of me for going out with him. I was a cool kid, and he wasn’t. At first I didn’t let it get to me. He was the first boy I ever kissed. I loved him. They kept at it for a long time. I slowly started to pull away. I would avoid him in the halls, would get up when he came in the gym, and he kept trying. I finally broke up with him with a dramatic letter. I told him that if he could give me a reason to stay together that I would consider it. He was crushed, and cried in front of me. Eventually we were friends again. He knew that I liked Krithebius (a Navajo name) and it hurt him. At one dance I was sad because I wanted to dance with Krithebius (the most popular and attractive guy at school) Grant asked me to dance. I told him no and I wanted to dance with Krithebius. Grant actually went over to him and asked him to dance with me. It broke his heart and I could see him crying in the corner. I thought I was so cool. I never saw what I had in him. He was the first guy I loved and who loved me. He was also the first guy who’s heart I broke. He went to high school. I knew I had screwed up, but it was too late. I saw him from time to time and he was always kind and happy to see me. Eventually I lost contact with him. I moved to Indiana again in the 8th grade. I had confidence and mystery on my side. I was cool at my new school. I was still big, but had learned to let my personality shine through. My Mom always told me I was beautiful, but I never believed her. I loved it there. The school was good and I had a lot of friends. I eventually met Evan, another older man, he was a freshman. He was cool, and handsome, and way out of my league. We had a class together my freshman year. We sat next to each other. He was nice to me, and flirted with me constantly. I asked him to a dance, but he couldn’t go because he was going out of town. He later danced with me at a homecoming dance. In the end he was not the guy for me. I had a crush on him all through school. He graduated, and I was sad. I eventually moved again at the beginning of my senior year. Now we talk. Through high school, I got taller and thinned out. I finally started to see my beauty. My friends and family always tell me I’m gorgeous. Now, I’m about to turn 18. I am finally able to see that I am pretty. I can see that I have a lot to offer. I know that I’ll never be a super model, but as my Aunt Lora said “she’s pretty in a very exotic way”. All my years of being the fat kid were actually a blessing. They taught me how to make real friends, be kind to others, keep my feet on the ground, be strong, and now I’m a beautiful girl who is kind, has a good personality, and doesn’t act like a bitch. I still don’t have the confidence I would like, but I fake it well, and confidence is an attractive quality. So, I’m still the ugly duckling at heart, but I finally see the swan I am becoming.