Purple Socks

by - 8:20:00 PM

Something has been haunting me lately. And I need to get it off my chest.



In grade school, there was a clique of girls. Naturally, this clique was headed by one girl. Like all the other girls who didn't brush their hair (OK, there weren't many-or any-besides me) I wanted desperately to be a part of this group. This clique was at the height of their popularity come about third grade.



During this school year, I would do anything they wanted. I made a fool out of myself at recess trying to play soccer, but instead giving up and just letting them laugh at me for entertainment. I played the servant girl while they were the Queen and Princesses. I even peed my pants in class (not entirely their fault, I understand, and I remain humiliated to this day) so I didn't have to ask the teacher if I could use the bathroom pass, as this was obviously too embarrassing. (Later I told the teacher the puddle under my desk was from snow I tracked in from recess; clever.)



This went on and on. And then one day, it all climaxed. It was bowling day. And I dreaded bowling day. I'm severely uncoordinated, but bowling day just proved this to the entire class while all eyes were trained on me for 30 seconds at a time. Since they usually don't make bowling shoes small enough for grade school kids (at least on in small towns in Idaho), we wore our socks.



This day had to be the day I chose to wear purple socks.



Mind you, there was nothing purple about my outfit. And the leader of the pack noticed. And openly mocked me. She mocked me enough I cried about it to my mom after school. I admitted to my mom that I was actually not friends with these girls, despite my charade up until that point. I told her how much they humiliated me everyday, and today had been the absolute, worst day of my entire life (at least up until that point).



My mom is awesome in these kind of situations. She always takes your side. Very forcefully, she takes your side, actually. She instructed me to remember I was better than these girls. And that I should not associate with them. She was truly upset. (She still gets a little riled over the topic to this day. See why I love her?)



And I remembered that. And I made new friends. I made friends with the crippled girl and the girl that didn't speak fluent English. And they loved me. I will always stand by my opinion that these two were some of the best friends I've ever had.



They liked the purple socks that belonged to Yours Truly.



I guess what's been haunting me is how I let their friendship slip right past me when I made new friends. I wish I could tell them how much I wanted to be like them. And how I'll try everyday to be a little more so. I wish I could go back and tell them how much they saved me by embracing me. Right down to the ratty purple socks.

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