Odd Girl Speaks Out Read online

  Instead her face turned pale and "innocent-looking."

  "Yeah," she said, biting her lip, as if Sophie had told her to keep a secret from me.

  The next day, instead of eating with Sophie and her "birthday crew" I ate with Ramona, a friend I knew I could trust. We sat at a table right behind Sophie and her birthday crew, whispering about how they hardly noticed I was gone.

  A few days later I asked one of Sophie's birthday crew why Sophie didn't invite me.

  He looked as if Sophie had said something really nasty about me.

  "Wait, just tell me a little bit," I said, with fear that I would start crying wildly.

  "It's something in your personality that she doesn't like. And her mom doesn't like you for that, either."

  What could I have possibly done to make Sophie's mom not like meP I don't even know Sophie's mom!

  Finally at the last period on Friday I asked one of the birthday crew to write down why Sophie hadn't invited me. I opened the paper, which would reveal the truth. It read:

  Sophie didn't invite you because she thinks you'll steal all the attention away from her and control the party. She also thinks you act like you're the only one who's allowed to be friends with Ava. This is the same reason Sophie's mom doesn't like you.

  First of all, the guests would come to see her, not me. And secondly, I can't "control" the party. It's her party. And I'm the only one who's "allowed" to be friends with Ava? Ava's allowed to be friends with whoever she wants. I do admit I sometimes (sort of) hog her, but hardly ever.

  The Monday after the party I asked a birthday crew member how the party was.

  "Good."

  "What did you do?" I asked.

  "Talked, watched movies."

  "What did you talk about?"

  "Stuff."

  "Me?"

  "Um, no."

  "Yes, you did!"

  "No."

  "Come on, you're lying," I said, not really knowing I cracked something open.

  "Well, yeah."

  "What did you say about me?"

  "Sophie asked why you were upset."

  "And what did you say?"

  "I said you thought you didn't do those things all the time."

  "And what did she say?"

  "She agreed."

  After all that! After all that she put me through. After the worrying and the putting the pieces together she agreed that I don't (always) do the things she said I did. I still wonder if she's sorry she didn't include me in the party.

  I still have friendship problems with Sophie and Ava. They leave me out or talk behind my back. Especially Sophie. I don't know where I stand with them. Part of me wants to be all "friendly" and doing everything together, but part of me doesn't. It will take a long time before I can ever even consider forgiving Sophie (or Ava).

  —AGE 13

  They Weren't There Anymore

  I've always been the odd one out

  In almost everything.

  I've never found a crowd that I've actually belonged to.

  So therefore

  I'm left out of a lot of things.

  I'm even left out of things

  When it comes to my own family,

  My cousins.

  I've already gotten used to

  Not being told anything

  (such as secrets)

  and being excluded

  from many things.

  But I wanted

  To be a part of this

  Badly.

  My cousins were planning

  To go to Skate-key

  (a skating rink)

  and I love

  anything having to do with

  dancing or skating

  So I asked

  If I could go with them

  And they said

  Sure.

  I then went

  To go get my skates

  And when I returned

  They weren't there anymore.

  By then

  I was already used to it,

  So I wasn't so hurt.

  Instead

  I just sat down and watched TV

  And read a book.

  Then I ate food.

  And waited

  Until they came back at around seven p.m.

  And stared at them all

  For at least five minutes

  And

  Left.

  —AGE 12

  Strengthened Spirit

  It is funny how in all the days, weeks, and years in our lifetimes that flee before our eyes, certain memories cannot evade our grasp and continue to live on in our hearts forever. Sometimes it takes the wounded heart years to heal from the inflicted pain, but for some, those scars can leave a permanent mark than can never be erased. I can still feel fierce twinges of pain when I reflect upon my experiences in a friendship that I had in years past. For a while, I tried to forget, but once you have been cut as deeply as I have, the pain cannot just dissipate, for it has been branded into my heart, and will forever continue to leave a lasting impact on my life.

  I was just a mere sixth grader, both innocent and naive as I tried to blend in with the rest of the girls in my tight-knit elementary school. At first, I felt content with my group of friends, for although I was not the leader, I was still surrounded by peers, and I was willing to follow along if it guaranteed acceptance. I never anticipated that these girls who I considered friends would make my life a living hell for an entire year. I was very trusting and honestly believed that my friends were good people as well.

  The onset of my tarnished friendship started out small, as my group did little things outside of school and failed to invite me along. This caused me some pain, but I tried to have faith that they would include me next time. Soon, it became a regular occurrence, and to make matters worse, I would have to sit in class and listen to them talking about funny stories from the times they had spent together. The only reason I subjected myself to this torment was because when I was with any one of my friends alone, she would treat me like a true friend would.

  To compensate for my feelings of loneliness and isolation, I tried to include myself into their conversations and act interested in their stories so that I would be included, too. Even when they did include me in their activities, I still felt left out, because they would all stick together and make me feel like an outsider. That year, my sole ambition was to be recognized and accepted by my friends because, more than anything else, I longed for their affection.

  Before I knew it, my group of friends started to become more devious and malicious, and I began to realize that their inside jokes were mainly based on poking fun at me. No matter what I did, they always found a way to make me feel embarrassed, whether it was something that I said or even the way I played a sport. The secretive gossip made me feel awful, and I'll admit they succeeded in taking away a great deal of my self-esteem. Soon, I caught onto more and more of the little subliminal messages in their conversation. They got much entertainment out of paining me and literally tearing me apart.

  Perhaps it was because I was a good student, or because I was a kind, unassuming person, but for whatever reason, I became the victim of the group. Because of this false sense of camaraderie, I allowed myself to believe that they really did want me as a friend. If only I had known that deep down they were just using me as a scapegoat to lash out all of their insecurities on, then maybe I could have saved myself a lot sooner.

  Because it was virtually four against one, I felt helpless. I had no allies to back me up, so I continued to play the role of the victim. If I would've had one person to back me up, I would have felt stronger and more assertive. I knew that if I tried to fight back, I would just be further ridiculed. As the months of verbal abuse went on, I would come home from school each day in tears and cry to my mother about how horribly I was being treated. Both of my parents assured me that the girls were just jealous of me, and that they had to make fun of me to make themselves feel better. My parents always told me
to remember that I was a better person, and that one day I would find real friends. To me, that day seemed like it would never come.

  As the year progressed, I began to dread going to school. I knew that they were making a mockery out of me and the emotional pain was more than I could bear. No matter what I did, my friends would find a way to turn it against me and use it as fuel for their own personal jokes. It got to the point where I even quit baton twirling. Baton was something that I genuinely liked, but my insecurities forced me to quit. I knew that their eyes were on me at all times, just waiting for me to make a mistake so they could use it against me the next day. Back then I didn't realize it, but they were just trying to put me down so that they could feel more powerful. I was too timid to confront them.

  Eventually, all of the months of my agony and crying to my parents boiled up to a climax. I was just checking my mail on the Internet one day, and I came across a letter from one of my male friends that said, "I found this e-mail going around, and I thought you ought to see it." To my dismay, this e-mail was entirely devoted to destroying my reputation and making me look like a complete loser. The e-mail was harsh, cruel, humiliating, insulting, and degrading. It was during this moment that I had an epiphany.

  I knew that I had let the abuse go on long enough, and I was not going to take it anymore. Although I cried hysterically upon reading the e-mail, I decided to show it to my mother, who was utterly horrified by its contents. My mom was enraged that anyone would stoop low enough to degrade someone behind their back, just for sheer enjoyment, so she retaliated by e-mailing the author of the vicious e-mail back a little letter of her own that sought to put the girl in her place.

  I was so happy that I was getting my justice because one of my friends had finally been caught in the act and was about to be punished. I don't know if I ever thanked the boy who showed me the e-mail enough. Whether he knew it or not, his courage and sense of justice changed my life that year. Thanks to this boy, my friends finally got what they deserved. Now, they had my mom against them and they no longer had me as a friend.

  By the end of that school year, I learned a lot about myself and just how strong I really was without them. I was extremely proud of myself for standing up to my ex-friends. I proved that my internal strength was more potent than any of their harmful words. Although I successfully escaped from the friendship nightmare and found replacement friends, I still felt the emotional repercussions.

  For the rest of elementary school, I felt insecure about my new friends because I was afraid that they would betray me and stab me in the back like my former friends did. It was hard for me to trust even my closest friends, because I had been wounded so severely by my last painful experience, but eventually the tides turned.

  Now, as a junior in high school, I have moved on and found a close group of friends that has made my life seem more complete. I feel as though I have gotten my justice, because now I am the one with genuine, loyal, trustworthy friends who I can rely on for anything, while my former friends drifted apart and became sort of lost.

  In a funny way, my harsh experience has liberated me. It gave me character and enough courage to stand up for what I believe in. I will never allow myself to become a victim as long as I live.

  I have learned that sometimes negative experiences can have positive outcomes. They provide us with the courage to go on through adversity and equip us with strength and perseverance.

  In a way I am thankful that I was faced with such a negative situation because the same girls who sought to destroy my spirit actually succeeded in making me the empowered person that I am today. Although I will always harbor memories of that painful time in my heart, I can walk taller each day knowing that I am stronger because of it. No one can ever take that away from me.

  —AGE 17

  Quality, Not Quantity

  Growing up in a small town where everyone knows everyone, cliques are formed early in elementary school and are often a bit catty and almost cultlike. You are taught by the "leaders" (often the prettiest or the most powerful of the group) what is considered pretty, nice, and even acceptable. As a young girl, I wanted more than anything to fit in and be part of this group because everyone seemed to like these girls. I wanted to be invited to their sleepovers and laugh with them in school about the silly things that had happened there.

  If you were not in their group, the girls made fun of you, yelled things at you, teased you about the way you wore your hair or the clothing you had on. In an attempt to be pretty and fit in, I developed an eating disorder. In sixth grade, my desire to be popular had fueled a full-fledged problem that has since been diagnosed as anorexia.

  During middle school I continued to be friends with these girls, scared of what would happen if I decided to leave their group for people who were more like me. At a gathering one day, I happened to kiss a boy that one of my friends had a crush on. By the next day, it was all over school and Emily, my friend who had the crush, had ordered all of the other girls not to talk to me. They made a Web page about me that said mean, untrue things, such as that I was a lesbian, that I had had sex with at least twenty guys, and that I was pregnant. These statements were damaging to my reputation as well as to my self-confidence. As I walked down the halls at school, the girls would scream "SLUT," "WHORE," and many other hurtful words that shouldn't be used against anyone, regardless of their age. I had Snapple bottles thrown at my head and I was forced to eat lunch in the bathroom by myself, embarrassed and unsure of what to do.

  I went home every day and cried, begging my mom to let me switch schools. My mother dismissed the problems as "girls being girls" and figured that as we neared high school the girls would grow out of this "phase" and become more mature. They didn't. The name-calling and slandering and spreading of rumors went on as my eating disorder grew progressively worse. I had no one to turn to. My mother was my only friend.

  At last my mother realized the seriousness of the situation and allowed me to transfer to a Catholic school my junior year. Everyone told me that I would make friends quickly because of my outgoing personality, but I was worried that everyone would already have cliques and that I would be an outsider. On my first day of school a girl whom I'll call Gossip befriended me. She introduced me to all her friends and took me in. I felt wanted and needed and liked, things I hadn't felt in a very long time.

  Not too soon after, I noticed that Gossip was very powerful in the school. Everyone was terrified of her because she spoke her mind and made fun of everyone. NO one wanted to be on her bad side. She was always jealous of my weight and wanted to be as thin as me, not knowing I had to starve myself to be this way. One day she decided to let jealousy rear its ugly head, and she proceeded to turn every girl in my grade against me. I thought that girls were supposed to grow out of this.

  Gossip and the rest of my friends wouldn't look at me. They would still yell things at me down the halls like "anorexic bitch," and Gossip threatened to punch my face in. I came into school one day and there were pictures taped to my locker of my friends and I with my face cut out. I got so upset that I was diagnosed with clinical depression and put on Prozac—as if that would make the girls like me again.

  Eventually the girls got over it and found someone new to pick on. I, however, was scarred for life. Terrified to trust anyone, I kept all my feelings inside, and walked on eggshells around everyone, careful not to say a word that might offend anyone.

  The summer going into my senior year I realized a few things. I realized that I liked who I was as a person, and that was all that mattered. I had a few close friends who had never betrayed me, and I focused on further improving my relationships with them. I took comfort in the fact that I had a loving family. Last, I learned to voice my opinions and to speak up for myself.

  I was a new person my senior year and everyone knew it. Although I was still the same sweet girl who had been hurt many times before, I was stronger because of everything that had happened, and my eyes showed it. People respected
me. As I prepare to go off to college, I know I will probably only keep in touch with a few people from high school. But I have learned that with friendship, it's quality, not quantity. If you learn to respect yourself, others will follow. I've learned to live by the quote, "Be yourself and you will find, who minds doesn't matter and who matters won't mind."

  —AGE 17

  "Why Is It My Fault That I Don't Want To Be Her Friend?"

  Moving On, Growing Apart

  In this section, girls write from both sides about the uncomfortable moment when friends start to grow apart. Of all the problems girls face in their friendships, this is one of the hardest. One girl feels she is being cruelly abandoned, even bullied. The other girl thinks she shouldn't have to be close to someone she just doesn't feel the same way about anymore. There is silence and denial on one side, and desperation and panic on the other.

  We live in a culture that tells girls to be friends with everyone. There is a language and even an industry to support best friendships between two girls: "BFF" and broken heart necklaces come quickly to mind. But what happens when that changes? We know that guys and girls break up; we accept that without question. We probably have more books on how to deal with that than about how to end poverty.

  Yet best friends can be just as close as a romantic couple, and we have no idea how to confront changes in the relationship, or to break up. No one prepares us for it, tells us how to do it, or what to expect. No one says it's okay, or not. As a result, people call it bullying. Others are outraged that they're being called bullies. Adults take their cues from the girls but don't know much more.

  Here are girls' perspectives on outgrowing a friendship, along with some suggestions on how to deal with it.

  Why Is It My Fault That I Don't Want to Be Her Friend?