- 3 years ago
I will preface this by saying that I am not necessarily looking for anything here, maybe just to vent or gain some perspective or to be virtually slapped in the damn face.
Backstory: I was a Grade A loser in high school. LOSER. My parents told me I couldn’t date until I was 16, which worked out perfectly fine since no one asked me out until I was 18! I went to a very small school in a very small town amongst people with very small minds. My saving grace was that I was a halfway decent athlete, but that was about as good as it got during those years. I had a group of friends, but my tight knit group started turning into a tight knit group of “ frenemies” around 16 or so. Not surprising, teenage girls can be bitches, and I fell into, too. Everyone loved to hate one another, and be in not so secret competitions with them. Obviously, I was a rather easy target for this since I was (1) unattractive (2) pudgy (3) had massive acne issues (4) didn’t find out what a flatiron was until after high school graduation and (5) had full on braces with rubber bands/headgear… yeah.
Wah wah wah right?… I grew up, got over it, lost the braces and life is great. Except for the fact that high school frenemy #1 now lives 20 miles from me. Now, the whole purpose of going off to college, reinventing myself and my entire social circle, moving for a job opportunity 7 hours from home and decidedly staying out of touch with these people was to keep a safe distance between myself and the crazies from my past. Anyone who grew up in a small town knows what it is like to just go home and be sucked right back in to all of the drama and gossip that was there 10 years ago. No thanks, not for me—love y’all, love small town life… but don’t love some of the junk that is inevitable.
Well, through a turn of weird events, me and my frenemy neighbor have a lunch date scheduled for today. I haven’t seen her face to face since I was 18, so this was 8 years ago, and to be honest—I am having a mild freak out. It is too late to cancel, and I don’t really want to , because I don’t want to look like a huge chicken shit… but I need to get it together! I thought, “ oh lunch, no big deal!”, but I was obsessing over my hair/makeup/outfit/how white my teeth look/ toenails/ running my car through the carwash— like, this isn’t me! This is insane, why do I even effing care?! What do I have to prove to someone I haven’t seen in 8 years?
Ugh, I don’t like myself being like this. I don’t want to even mention it to DH, because I am sure he will 100% not “ get it” as to why I am on the verge of sweaty palms and a blotchy, red neck from nervousness. This sucks—so here is my advice to anyone thinking of just calling up that old frenemy… wear a turtleneck!