Revival

February 21, 2017

I remember absolutely nothing good about high school.

Okay, that’s a lie.

But most of what I remember is pretty cringe-worthy. I cringe every time, I don’t kid. I was obnoxious. I thought I was some hot stuff. I had crushes on different guys every year (if not with every season–I was a total mess!), most of whom didn’t even know I existed. And if they did, it wasn’t for good reason.

I just remember how ostentatious I was but at the time, I swear to you, it never occurred to me just how bad it was! I thought I was so calm and collected because I hung out with seniors as a freshman, which was true, to an extent. I thought I was so cool and I kid you not, I wondered why these cutie boys didn’t “like-like” me.

Some memories are so cringe-y that I can’t even finish thinking about them because I might hurl. I remember when my best friend was this senior guy’s ultimate crush and he texted me every day about her and how she won’t give him a chance. I got so frustrated once that I texted her “there he goes again about you…” and other details about his text to me when I later got a text from him wondering who “he” was. I texted that to him! How stupid I was. And how illiterate I was with my darn slider phone, I couldn’t even check the contact name.

Also, four words:

High.

School.

Marching.

Band.

Before I discovered the secret to preventing sick tan lines on your feet was long workout pants, I had a fabulous–you guessed it–sock tan. Dun dun duunnnn! Those words were the worst nightmare of all naïve freshmen girls who still believed there was true love to be found on the Rated R homecoming dancefloor. There was not, and never will be, I promise you, ladies. So do yourselves a favor and stay home that night, okay? Unless you want to join me and my sweet, family-friendly congo line.

I didn’t stop dressing like a thirteen-year-old and I didn’t start wearing makeup (not that I needed it other than to serve the purpose of covering up my blemishes) until my junior year in high school. And it frustrates me now, but I didn’t know or understand the concept of eyebrow grooming until I almost finished my first year of college. Pathetic. I’m ashamed of myself. At least I kind of knew how to do my makeup for senior prom and graduation. But I still didn’t get it right til way later!

The only good I’m getting out of this high school reminisc is my embarrassingly boastful high self-esteem. There was literally nobody who could tear me down (except my crush from sophomore year–he was a doozie).

And carrying that confidence with me to my life now is making the biggest difference in how I interact with people whether it be old mates or new friendships along the way… It’s changing my life every day because now I feel like the fabulous high school life I missed out on seems like it’s being revived and revitalized, like I’m receiving a second chance at feeling alive again.

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