The other day I was waiting for a photo editing app to load and had to sit through an ad that looked a lot like Tetris.
And I was immediately brought back to 6th grade.
In 6th grade, if we arrived early enough, we could play on the computer in the classroom before our homeroom. But there was only one computer so we had to take turns. I rarely spoke up about wanting a turn. I was a shy kid and preferred to keep to myself or be with my small group of friends. But one day, for some reason, I found myself on the computer while my classmates watched. Everyone loved to play Tetris (although I preferred Oregon Trail) and I had never really played before, but there I was, trying to fit these weird shapes into the spaces they fit. Two of the popular guys in the class were showing me how to do it...or so I thought. It wasn't until they started laughing and high fiving each other that I realized they were not helping me at all. They were telling me the wrong things to do so I would lose, but I was thinking I was doing great. I don't remember how that ended. Most likely, I walked away, embarrassed, and never spoke of it again.
I heard a message loud and clear that day- I didn't fit in. And at 36 years old, I still often feel like I don't fit in. .I'm not saying that single incident led me to have imposter syndrome for the rest of my life, but I do know it is a moment that stuck with me. It wasn't the first time I had gotten a message that told me I was an outsider, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But the shame I felt at 12 years old is still inside me, and comes out to play once in a while.
The saddest part about that story is not that the boys were laughing at me. It's that I believed what they were saying to be true. I believed I deserved to be laughed at, and that never again would I put myself in a position where I would be front and center.
This is something I tend to do: believe things about myself that aren't necessarily true, and let them define me. I struggled with math as a kid and got in trouble for counting on my fingers, so I became absolutely terrified of math and to this day have a physical reaction of anxiety and shame when I am asked to do even basic math. In any group game setting, I flat out refuse to play because I am scared there will be math involved. That might seem like a silly example, but it's one that is true.
I'm working on healing that part of me that falls into that trap. But sometimes I am kinder to myself when I imagine my younger self watching.
So, here is what I wish I could have told my 12 year old self that day when she felt so much shame over a damn computer game.
Sweet girl,
First of all, those boys ain't shit. Sorry, I'm a passionate feminist, you will soon become one. Let me try again.
I know that you felt embarrassed today. I know that hurt your feelings. You can feel hurt and sad. But that one moment in time is not who you are. You're going to do so many incredible, beautiful things in this life and not one person is going to care whether or not you were in the "cool group" in 6th grade. By the way, no one is actually cool in 6th grade. They just think they are. And unfortunately they tear other people down to make themselves feel better. Remember what dad always says? Build each other up, don't tear each other down. Stop rolling your eyes, it's good advice. Okay, back to the point. If you don't hear anything else I say, hear this: you belong here. There are so many people who are better because you are in their life. You are loved beyond measure. You are a gift and a treasure. Treat yourself as such, without guilt. You have beautiful things to share with the world, it would be a shame to keep them locked up. You have permission to shine.
You are loved.
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