The rise of an underdog

I had been used to being overlooked, dismissed, and forgotten. My voice was never loud or strong enough to speak over people or command attention. I understood that to be my role, to go through life being meek and quiet as a mouse. If it weren’t for my insatiable appetite for success that overpowered me, I would still be sitting in the corner with my head hung down, hoping not to be noticed – because that was easier.

I remember my first day of high school back in 1985. Sitting in the classroom of an all-girl Catholic high school can be extremely intimidating. My eyes scanned every inch of the gray room; the mustiness was getting to me, and almost made me feel light headed. The excessive starch in my uniform skirt was rough against my legs and I was self conscious about how my blouse was clinging to me, I wanted to wear a sweater to cover myself, but the August 80-degree weather would only cause me to sweat even more. My mom refused to sew the hem on my skirt, so it was longer than I had hoped it would be – almost to my knees. Everyone else had their skirts shortened before the first day of school and I could see they had a lot more confidence than I did.

I had hoped that day would be different, like a fresh start and new beginning in my lonely life, the opportunity to reinvent myself and fight against the years of going unnoticed. I was tired of being the goody two-shoes, but I wanted people to like me and I wanted to be everyone’s friend. I wanted to learn about different personalities and be asked to the popular hangouts. I didn’t want to be my grade-school self anymore. She was the girl who everyone thought was smart and nice, but too shy, or not fun enough to hang with, I was the nerd of the group. I had been good enough to help write a paper or tutor in math, but never good enough to be asked to a party. I was every parent and teacher’s dream, but became the girl to avoid as those parents and teachers would compare them to me.

I told myself that it didn’t mattered. That I was ok by myself, watching out only for me, doing the best I can, to do the things that made me happy, while others struggled to fit in. I told myself I wasn’t going to try to be their friend, I wanted them come to me, I wanted them to see what a value I would be in their lives, how they would need me. So I confused their malicious intents to “be my friend” when they asked for help with their English papers or poetry assignments, and instead, I became their idiot.

So this first day as a high school freshman was all about being different and showing these new people that I wasn’t that weak person, that I wasn’t going to be taken advantage of, that I was competitive and smart, but also good humored and sensitive.

I didn’t know what was in store for me, but I loved the adrenalin that pumped through my veins as I looked towards who I could become.
~A