Those girls
Friday, June 29th, 2007I hate seeing myself in other girls.
My little brother and sister have been at Vacation Bible School all week at a local church that our neighbors go to. Tonight, they had something like a party/open house where all of the parents and siblings could come and eat hot dogs and see what the kids have been doing all week. It’s cute, it really is.
There were a couple of, oh, about twelve to thirteen year olds standing in a little bunch, probably about six of them. One girl immediately stood out to me because… I was her once. They stick out to me.
They tend to stand with a group of girls who are prettier than them, thinner than them, more popular than them. They tend to have slightly messy hair and clothes that never seem to come into fashion. The glasses are too big and the posture is a little awkward and they’re wearing dog-eared tennis shoes that are laced a bit too tight.
The only reason I can say this is because I look at these girls and I see me reflected in some kind of time-warp mirror. That was me.
I want to shake these girls to get their attention… to tell them that it’s going to be okay, that they don’t have to look like these other girls, that if they were less awkward with themselves, than they would be less awkward people. I don’t even know what I’d say… other than I know I’d say all of those things I wish someone had said to me once.

