I posted a bit about this on Facebook, but was suddenly compelled to blahg about it. Mainly because (1) I like to blahg, and (2) I am 150% sure that my target audience will read this. I know who reads my blahg. I have a stat counter. I also have friends who tell me who reads my blahg. So it all works out.
The right people will receive this message, I am sure of it.
I have always been very sarcastic. Some people think that sarcasm equates to bitchiness, so I've also been told that I'm very bitchy. That's fine. The people who matter don't mind, and the people who mind don't matter.
And I can be bitchy. No doubt about it. But I am often mistaken as being bitchy when I'm not trying to be.
Just a heads up - I am not intending to be bitchy in this post. But I am sure it will come across that way.
In high school, I had a large circle of friends. The odd thing was that while there were about 30 of us, we still ran in smaller crowds. So while we might all meet up for a New Years party, or a birthday dinner at Red Robin, we weren't having slumber parties and divulging our deepest secrets.
Part of me didn't even like several of the girls in our crowd because I couldn't trust them. I saw how they treated others, and it made me wonder if they treated me the same way behind my back. Well, and to be honest, I had seen the way they treated me in earlier years, before we ever even started hanging out together.
Eleven years since high school has ended, a lot of things have changed.
We've graduated from different colleges.
We've married and had children.
We've moved.
We've started new careers.
We've moved on. High school is a moment in time where most of the general population can look back and laugh, but the rest of the population wishes they could stay there. They don't want to grow up. They don't want to move on. They want to cling to the same friends they've always had, and dislike the same people who they always disliked.
Now, I am not claiming to be perfect. I am the polar opposite of perfect. Ask my husband. He'll tell you.
But one thing I am proud of is the fact that I have been so forgiving of my younger years. I find myself establishing friendships with people who once tried to burn my house down. I confide in people I once made fun of (thank God they have been so forgiving of me!). I'm more open-minded and understanding of others because I realize that while I may be struggling, there is always someone who is facing a greater struggle.
In other words, I've grown.
(Please pause for this brief moment where I show you a really cute picture of my son.)
Recently a random string of miscommunications ended up with a friend of mine and I being angry with one another. Our argument lasted for awhile, and got pretty heated at times. But the nice thing is that since then, we have been able to apologize to one another. We've spoken and forgiven one another and moved on.
Our friendship has grown.
Those who haven't grown, however, were the bystanders. Those girls who watched over us the entire time with the impression that they were invited to do so. The same girls who never passed the "Smell Test" - as they like to call it in law school - in order to gain my trust to begin with. It was those high school girls.
Eleven years later and these girls are still behaving the same way they did in high school. They are petty. And rude. And two-faced. And opportunists. And mothers.
Ugh. Typing that last line breaks my heart. They have children.
And their children are girls. And as parents, our actions speak louder than our words. So while we can cry, "Do unto others!" the only thing they will hear is what we, ourselves, are doing unto others. Or have done to others.
Thus, the cycle continues. And my poor child(ren) will go to school with their children. And he will have to deal with that same, petty bullshit all over again.
Hold on, buddy. You're in for some rough years.
The good news is, when you grow a little older, you'll wise up. And you'll forgive them of their immaturity and lack of general apathy.
Because you'll understand that it wasn't really their fault in the first place.
Sometimes socialization can be a bitch.
