A Twinkie In My Pocket

Today I was reading an article online about how Lady Gaga was going to do a show on MTV about her highschool life. Apparently, she'll be sharing a story about being thrown in the garbage can by a cute boy and laughed at by mean girls in the hallway. I thought, yeah, right... sounds a little like an after school special.

Suddenly, I had an flash of a memory, one of the last days of my 6th grade year. Random, right?:

I was wearing my super awesome purple flower bermuda shorts and tank top. Rocking my almost-mullet do and coke bottle glasses. I really, really wanted to be cool. That was the year that I tried everything to be accepted in the "in" crowd. It never did work for me, I was never meant to be a cool kid.

Anyway, Mr Irwin had bought Soda Shop Poppe and turned his hearing aides down- so we were having a class party. People were laughing, talking, spraying water from hidden squirt guns in the hall way... general last day of school schenanigans. I was in the hall, standing by my locker. I said "Look, I can fit in here!".

If you knew any 12 year old boys who picked on dorks you may know what happened next.

A classmate, who I wont name (at least in this blog), closed my locker door and put a pencil thru the lock hole. Asshole.

At first, I thought "finally! I'm part of the joke!" the whole thing was funny, everyone was laughing. After a few moments, I realized that the other kids had gone back into the classroom and the joke was me.

That was when I got angry. I started banging on the walls and yelling. I was mad, because I was embarrassed. When I'm mad, I cry. So, I'm in my locker, crying and banging on the door. Finally, someone pulled the pencil and I got out. My retort? A scathing, tear filled "Very funny". The boy did apologize, I said "Its ok" and shrugged like it was nothing. I took the easy exit out of the situation and asked to go to the bathroom.

Right at that moment, I remembered that I had a twinkie in my back pocket. Why? I have no damn idea. My mom didnt buy stuff like that, I'm thinking it was probably a treat for end of school. I reached into my pocket, found my twinkie was smashed flat as a pancake- ruined.

I went in to the bathroom, checked myself out in the mirror. Made sure my twinkie didnt squish all over my shorts... went into the last stall and ripped the package open. I ate that twinkie in about 2 bites and wished I had more. I probably would have eaten the whole package.

It was my first real moment of... wow, this is hard to say... self loathing. It was my first moment of eating something bad for me to feel better, to soothe the pain of social humiliation. It was the beginning of a life long struggle with self esteem and food.

I wiped my face of twinkie crumbs, checked myself in the mirror, smiled and went back to the classroom. It was the beginning of a lifetime of "No, no, I'm fine... see how I happy I am? See my smile?"

Do you know, I had forgotten all about this until today? Its wierd that I buried it, but now that Im thinking about it, its a painful memory. Ive thought about it all evening and Ive come to a conclusion.

Yes, that guy embarrassed me. Yes, I have a problem with food. Yes, I will continue to struggle with it for the rest of my life.

BUT, that day also helped build me to who I am now. I am a person who isnt afraid to take the hard road, who cheers for the under dog, who befriends the new kid, who help someone in need- regardless of how cool they are.

Thats who I am. Thanks 6th grade bully... you helped make me awesome.