you have no power over me

It’s funny sometimes. Funny how long ago hurts that you’d largely moved on from can occasionally flare up when the circumstances are right.

We were walking down the alley to Milk Bar on Saturday night and there was a group of 3 girls walking behind us. They were most likely going for the 80’s room as they were all dressed in jeans and heels and didn't look like our normal “spooky” crowd.

They were what I call now “woohoo girls” but in junior high (not as much high school but definitely junior high) they were the girls I most wanted to be friends with and look like. Thin, long shiny hair, always dressed in new, well-fitting clothes, the girls who always just seemed so much cooler and prettier than I felt. These were the girls who would pretend to be friends with me to play elaborate pranks on me. These are the girls that would jog behind me in gym class and make fun of the stretch marks behind my knees or who would constantly talk about how fat I was just within earshot so I would know they were talking about me.

We all remember those girls. Even though you may be loath to admit it, you might have been one of those girls. Kids are dicks. Just how it goes.

Here is the thing. I have let go of a lot of that emotional baggage, I have let go of the hurt caused by those memories. Now I just shrug it off and remember that kids are dicks and it has no bearing at all on my life. I am so not the girl I used to be back then. Shit I am not even the girl I was 4 years ago, I’ve grown up, moved on, let go.

And yet.

Saturday night, walking to the club with the 3 girls behind me I hear one of them whisper something to their friend and then all 3 of them break into gales of laughter and one says “I know right, that’s exactly what I was thinking” and I had a moment.

A flashback if you will.

A moment of feeling like that awkward kid who thought she was way fatter than she really was, wearing those hand-me down clothes and the cheap sneakers with those girls behind me making fun of me in gym class.

But you know what else?

It was just a moment. I walked into the club and was greeted warmly by several friends and jog-trot acquaintances and had a wonderful evening, I promptly forgot about the woohoo girls and went about my night.

I am no longer that girl who would have held on to a perceived and most likely imaginary hurt and let it ruin my evening. I let it roll off of me and I had a great time.

Sometimes this grown up thing ain’t so bad…

begone childhood bs. You have no power over me anymore.