When I was nine I moved to Texas. At school I was immediately embraced by everyone and the popularity was overwhelming.
I’m kidding. I was bullied. Relatable right?
Mistakenly I had befriended a very popular girl with very loyal/territorial friends who weren’t happy that we were spending so much time together.
At recess, each of her friends (single file) approached me and told me they hated me. Kids are so sweet.
Out of all the mean girls, there was, of course, the leader. Her name was Talon, as in a claw, especially one belonging to a bird of prey. Suitable, huh?
Well, one day as my dad and I passed the ol’ pigskin around (a football for those who don’t know… or at least I think that’s what it means… what if I’ve been wrong all these years and ol’ pigskin actually meant something horrid and not very vegan). He asked me how school was going and I told him about The Claw.
To this day I remember what he said. He said, “Don’t let anyone rent space in your head. You’re only giving them power over you”.
I remember this because it was so damn annoying. What bullied nine-year-old wants to hear that she is part of the problem?
But I took the advice and moved on. I made friends and learned a few jokes to distract bullies with, similar to throwing meat in the opposite direction and running. With less running. And not enough meat, frankly.
I’m still struggling with this though. Not bullies. That would be uncomfortable for two reasons.
- Why am I still attending recess as a grown woman?
- I recently took a self-defense class and I’m way too eager to use the moves
I’m struggling with not letting people rent space in my head. People say something harmless or purposely mean and I chew it over for days!
I’ve held grudges for years. Then I think about how that can’t be good for my skin long term, or my digestive system short term and then it makes me even angrier. The cycle is vicious.
I realized, my brain has just been a terrible landlord. It’s letting the tenants paint the walls a horrendous yellow and bringing in oversized dogs without a pet deposit.
This metaphor is getting lengthy.
I guess what I’m trying to say is enough is enough. Get the hell out of my head!
I figured I’d start where I always have when I’m facing anything scary. (Besides burying myself in rom-coms). Logic my way back.
Does it make sense that the librarian hates you because you’re a repeat offender of overdue books?
Possibly, librarians aren’t portrayed in movies as having a positive attitude. They like to shush people.
Has a real librarian ever shushed you?
No, they’ve asked me nicely to not walk them through the plot of the entire Twilight Saga.
You need to let that go.
Deal.
Hey, it’s a start.
Xoxo,
Funny Girl