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I Was A Mean Girl

It doesn't hurt to be tolerant...
 
 

...because 'nice' is for biscuits. Maturity is a very demanding human trait. It requires accountability and humility. You have to be willing to forgo being a winner and accept compromise. But maturity requires a willingness to change, something very few of us are willing to do. It's story time and boy do I have an interesting story for you.

I'm not really sure about the exact time, but I can trace back to fourth grade. I was on this group in class with the meanest people.  There was this girl called Emily. She was tall, lanky with attitude. Not necessarily the brightest crayon in the box, in terms of academics. Emily made the first two terms of fourth grade unbearable. I often would cry to my father about it.

Emily was the definition of a mean girl. My dad once said that she's being mean to me because I'm smarter than her. Might have been true, but that didn't help my social life at school. Come fifth grade, something changed. I became the 'boss'. Any girl who wanted to join my group would have to ask my permission to be in it. At one time the group became so big that the class ended up being part of it. Even Emily asked for permission to be in my group, and how sweet it was to humiliate her for fourth grade. I actually had an arrogance, I felt that no one was above me amongst my peers. I had a sort of upper hand because school authorities were cool with my father. If I didn't like something, I would tell my daddy and daddy would go straight to the school authorities. The following year I had a fallout with one of the girls who started her own group. I was livid.

It's only after losing my father in the seventh grade did I stop being a mean girl. During high school I battled teenage angst, and loneliness. I was vulnerable and a total introvert. I remember tenth grade (form three) and I was the 'new girl'. I had transferred to boarding school which was both a blessing and a curse. I was trying to fit in, I was unaware that I wasn't welcome to the inner circle. I remember crying myself to sleep as my fellow dormitory mates gossiped about me. They shared their dislike for me. I recall one of them saying that I was 'gwash' (meaning whack). That was the defining moment of the 'mean girl' build up.

I learnt to pull other girls down. Never viewing myself as pretty, my esteem was built on intelligence and talent. Though a hardworking B student, I was well read and travelled. I also wrote poetry and sang well. There were often other girls in school whom I was condescending towards regardless of the fact that I was socially awkward. I would tell myself that I will go further than most because I'm smart. "They are just pretty enough for high school....looks can only take you so far in the real world," were my thoughts. In hindsight, that notion was wrong to a larger extent. Come senior year, with some slight confidence, my 'mean girl' episodes were strobe light.

Fast forward to adult life...I was the meanest. I literally suffered from verbal incontinence, add wit, mixed with hyperbolic emotional reactions, I have been a nightmare. At one point in my life, I was told that I'm the female version of Mr X. That wasn't a complement. In adulthood, Lady E has been a tyrant, mean because I chose to.

The big question is why?

When I think of the popular 'mean girls' we have watched on tv or in movies like Regina George, they are mean because of power. Popular girl equals pretty plus mean. Others, mean was a form of projection of insecurities often due to parental neglect, or rejection. What's my story? I was mean due to rejection. It felt easier to shut people out by projecting negative energy. In primary school, I was tiny and bullied. In high school, I didn't fit in. In adulthood, I was broken. Add low self esteem to brokenness, you have the perfect recipe for a 'mean girl'.

Watching Gabrielle Union admit to Jada on the Red Table Talk about being a 'mean girl' felt close to home. As a woman, it takes a lot to admit to being wrong. In this context, being a woman who pits herself against her own kind. 'Mean' by tearing other women down verbally. Mean by offering judgemental perceptions of the next woman. Mean by using the other woman's weaknesses as weapons to degrade her. That mean girl was me. In admission, in some instances, I experienced mean girls coming after. In retaliation, I hit back with even vicious actions and speech. Part of my mean streak came from intimidation. Remember the low self esteem? One woman would be well accomplished in her career. Another young lady is physically attractive. The other has the lifestyle that I needed to work a tenfold to achieve even just a red bottom to have. Whilst, another woman received so much male attention.

Clearly Maleficent was an angel compared to me. I even scared myself. The turning point came when I started my healing process. I remember having compassion for a former neighbour, a woman who I disliked with a passion. I was a mean girl towards her because of envy. Being the same age, she seemed to be living her best life, whilst I struggled in the struggle. I met her at a very low point of her life. She had fallen from her former glory of being a 'slay queen' (loosely used). She looked like a sad case, making me think, gosh, I wouldn't wish that upon anybody. Like a curse lifted, the moment that I became more compassionate towards other women, the lighter I felt. In present time, I walk in another woman's stilettos.

Just because something isn't for you, doesn't make it wrong. I learnt that each to her own, because our stories differ. The paths that we each take vary; for some the path is a yellow brick road, whilst others, there are thorns and thistles. That's the crucial point that I remind myself daily. Another lesson learnt on this journey of the reformed mean girl is that you don't need to like everyone to applaud them. Vice versa, not everyone has to like you, or be your friend. The common ground is 'R.E.S.P.E.C.T'. Respect the next individual's hustle, and accomplishments even if you don't share similar value systems. Try to tone down on projection. Not everyone should be the same, we are not uniforms.



P.S. Always write your own love story!

Ciao!

Lady E
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