Aqua Net, Lipgloss, and Lord of the Flies

One of my old school chums made an astute observation on Facebook. She said that she learns more about human nature by watching her girls on the playground than anywhere else. The complexities of humanity get played out there repeatedly. 

It's so true. Is there anyone out there who was not scarred in some way by their experiences in jr. high or middle school? 


The Mean Girls, cliques, and heartbreak of those years more than prepared me for anything I'd experience in adult and corporate life. They overprepared me, maybe.

I remember one girl in our circle particularly. She seemed to enjoy picking one other girl out and turning the rest of the group against her. There was no rhyme or reason to who got picked or why. Then, when shunning her got old, that girl was readmitted to the circle and another girl was singled out for the same treatment. It was complete ostracism. It was cruel.

I remember when I was singled out. Suddenly, nobody talked to me. Nobody looked at me. If they had to respond to me in some way, it was with an eye roll and an annoyed voice. I was an outcast. For one month (the month was November and I still remember it vividly). And then they accepted me back into the circle again.

Months later, my friend Lela (with whom I still am and always will be close) and I were spending the night at the ringleader's house. We were sitting on the curb in front of the house under a streetlight, when the two of them looked at each other and one of them asked "Should we tell her?" Then they turned to me and said in unison: "We hated you." And then they gave me all of the details of what had happened during that cold November. How they suddenly hated my laugh and the way I bounded up to people. How my jokes were no longer funny. I was sitting outside of the beam of the streetlight in the shadows, and it all came flooding back. The pain of the rejection and the bullying brought tears to my eyes. At the end of the story, they palliated me with "But we like you again now, so it's ok." 

Ouch.

Looking back on that memory, I don't know what's more painful. Was it the rejection I felt during that November or was it the horror of knowing I participated in that same Mean Girl activity once I was back in the circle. I'm leaning toward the latter.

One good thing comes out of that pain. The friendships you make at that age are the ones that stick. These are the people who know you to the core because they were there when your favorite red earring fell into the toilet after homeroom. They were there for your spectacular wardrobe failures, including wearing cutoff sweatpants that peeked out from under a miniskirt (you chuckle, but I, unfortunately, have photographic evidence). They were there when you were in that weird, pimply, baby-fat stage. They were there when The Boy didn't like you back.

And, chances are, they're still there for you today.