A Life Lesson Remembered

It's happening again.

The meanness creeping in around the blogosphere.

Truth be told, it probably never goes away. And sadly, I've been the victim of some internet bullying not too long ago, then again I had a person respond to a comment I made on another blog (from June of 2009 no less) last week. Then some of my friends have had varying mean-girl issues recently.

So it's been on my mind.

I have had cheesy be-nice-to-everyone posts and hard core quit-being-a-bitch posts rolling around in my head for the last couple of weeks.

Then I realized what I needed to write about. I needed to tell the story that taught me a lesson about meanness.

First, though, I have to confess. When I was in grade school, I was the mean one. I was a big bully to a girl named Julie. For no reason, my best friend and I didn't like her. We felt like she tagged along with our group of friends (when in reality, she was invited) and the things we did are too embarrassing to even put out here. It involved name-calling, mostly, and I was a bitch. Plain and simple. So I probably deserved the story that I'm about to tell. Also, I still struggle with gossip and such. I am human. I just want to make it clear that I do not feel holier-than-thou. Got it? Good.

I went to a very small college in my hometown that began as an all-girls' school. My mom went there, back when they had first started allowing men to enroll, and back then, the only men who attended, according to my mother, were gay. By the time I started attending, in 1996, the ratio of men to women was still something like 1 to 3. And therefore, we young women fought mercilessly over the guys, of course.

I was too nervous to just get the luck of the draw when it came to roommates, so I decided to commute my first semester and hopefully find a kindred spirit who could become my roomie at a later date. And sure enough, on the first day of school, I met one of the sweetest girls I've ever met. We connected immediately and within days made plans to move in together at semester. We did just that, and in January, we packed up our matching green plaid comforters and doubled our wardrobe (we wore the same size...bonus!) and marched into the dorms, pretending to be much less nervous than we actually were.

As you can imagine, the boys were excited to have two new girls move into the dorms. The other girls by that time were old news, and we reveled in this. (Hey, I'm just being honest.) I remember feeling like the world was at my fingertips, and so! many! cute! boys! was just part of the fun. I had a boyfriend when I moved in, and partially due to the fact that he was pretty but dumb and also because of so! many! cute! boys! showing me interest, that relationship fizzled quickly.

I played the field at first. My roommate ended up moving home but we remained very close. By that time, I had established a small group of girlfriends who also lived in the dorms. They were catty and gossipy and fun and if I'm going to be honest, mean. We were all mean to each other.

Before long, I fell in a bit of lust. I dove into a quasi-relationship with a smooth older guy. He was cute and popular and he knew it. But I was lucky enough to see another side of him. I distinctly remember him telling me that I was too sweet for him; that I should date one of his friends instead. But I looked at him with stars in my eyes and ignored the rumors that I wasn't the only one doing the walk of shame from his room at 5 am.

Well.

Until I came face to face with another girl doing the walk of shame from his room at 5 am. I gathered up what was left of my dignity and walked away from him, never looking back.

Okay, I peeked back. And I cried a lot. Especially when I found out it wasn't just me and this other girl.

And there may have been one return trip.

But then I really did walk away.

In the meantime, I started dating around again. The mean girls didn't really go on many dates. One night, my grade school friend invited me on a double date. We were all already friends, and that's as far as it went. There wasn't even a goodnight kiss at the end of that date. (Funny story...the guy that I dated that night ended up marrying my friend. Not a big shocker that there weren't many sparks between us that night.)

I came home from my date and walked down the dorm hall. As I got closer to my door, I could hear a conversation between my friends who lived across the hall from me.

Thinking about the words I heard still makes me cringe.

Oh, the meanness. They were saying that the boy who I walked away from never did like me. That I was stupid for ever hooking up with him. That I was a slut. That everyone knew it.

I stood in the hallway, tears rolling down my cheeks, listening. When I couldn't take it any longer, I walked into my room and slammed my door, locking it immediately.

Silence ensued.

Within minutes, my friends were at my door, knocking, apologizing profusely, begging me to come talk. It was probably the first time in my life I was able to be quiet for more than a few minutes. I refused to say a word. I remember thinking about peeing in a cup and pouring it out my window so I wouldn't have to leave my room to go to the bathroom. I can't remember if I actually did it.

For two days, I didn't speak to anyone. My ex-roommate got lots of sobbing phone calls. I sank into a depression.

One night, I was in my room, watching Dawson's Creek and listening to Jewel during the commercial breaks, when my friend across the hall burst into my room. She breathlessly told me that even though I hated her, I needed to listen. The boy who I had walked away from had been taken to the ER and they didn't think he was going to make it. We needed to go now.

Since this was such a small school, everyone knew everyone, and we were all, for the most part, quite close. We jumped into someone's car and drove to the hospital. Five minutes after we walked into the waiting room, a doctor came out to tell us that our friend had died. He had a heart attack on the basketball court during practice.

We all dissolved into tears, literally holding each other up. It was a quiet, stoic car ride home, peppered with sniffles and sobs.

Our good friend and RA came to us that night, asking our small group of friends for a meeting.

"Look," she said, sternly, tears in her eyes. "I hope this taught you a lesson. Life is short. You don't know when it will be over, and how would you feel if the last thing that happened was a horrible fight between us? We'd never forgive ourselves. It's time to start being kind to each other. Being mean and gossipy has got to stop."

I find myself thinking about her speech from time to time, and it's been on my mind again recently. Whether the mean words are spoken by a IRL friend or one you've never met, I am here to tell you that they hurt equally badly. If my friend's speech resonates with just one of my readers, then I'm glad I posted my story.

Namaste.

Dear Gina 1996

Last week, Karen wrote this letter, which inspired me to write my own. The idea came from another blogger, who suggested that people write letters to themselves circa the year they graduated from high school.

I've been wanting to write my letter since then but just now found the time. So here goes nothin'.

Dear Gina,

You are getting ready to leave for college. Well, actually, you aren't quite leaving yet. You decided to wait until you meet someone on campus to become your roommate rather than leaving it up to chance. That will turn out to be a good idea. Do yourself a favor....attempt to reign in the ADD (you'll get that diagnosis later...it'll explain a lot) and keep your room somewhat clean. Reach out to the girl who becomes your roommate a little more. Otherwise, she'll move back home pretty quickly and you'll miss her like crazy. The good news is that you will reconnect ten years later via this really cool social networking site and have a 3-hour-dinner, but it's a heck of a lot of time to waste without her.

Speaking of that waiting-to-move-into-the-dorms decision....when your dad rescues you by picking you up after your car gets towed on your first day of school, appreciate him. When your dad rescues you by offering to carpool with you rather than you sitting in an hour-long commute to work, appreciate him. (It's not really on his way to work.) And when he makes your lunch before said carpooling, for the love, girl....you are in college. Seriously. Make your own lunch. And still, appreciate him.

Once you move into the dorms after your first semester, it will feel as though the world is at your fingertips. It is. Be careful. All that attention you will get from the boys...enjoy it. But know that it's coming from boys who are thinking with the wrong head. And don't ever, ever lose respect for yourself and insist on the same from those boys. But go ahead....eat it up.

You'll quickly find yourself in a tight-knit group of girlfriends. In the back of your mind, you'll always wonder why a few of them seem so mean-spirited. Do not get caught up in being mean just to fit in. It's ugly, and bad karma, which you'll learn a lot about later. The truth is that most of those girls will break your heart later in life when they aren't there for you during a difficult time. But be a part of the group for now. They'll teach you not to take actual friends for granted. And you will make a lot of great memories with them. And you'll figure this out, but hold tight to your friendship with Em. She's so true and will end up being a lifelong friend even when everyone else has disappeared. Don't waste a second of time arguing with her.

You are on the right path with your major. It's your calling. But give every class your all, even those awful ones like Anatomy and Physiology of the Speech and Hearing Mechanism and Audiology. If you rely on others to get through them, you'll wish you had learned more once you start your job.

You'll have your fair share of heartbreaks through college. But the truth is that none of those guys you shed tears over (yes, even him) will end up being the one. So have fun. Play hard-to-get. If the guy of your present dreams chooses someone else over you (and sorry, but that will happen more times than I care to share right now), shrug him off and move on. You'll meet someone better than you could have even imagined later.

Unfortunately, during college, you'll meet a jerk who you'll end up marrying and will treat you very, very badly. It's okay, though. It's going to be worth it. If you don't marry him, you won't meet the man with whom you are supposed to spend your life. Just do not even entertain the thought of having children with your first husband. And when you leave, take your dog. Otherwise, you'll worry about that cute little basset hound for years to come.

Don't take one person for granted. A peer who is important to you will die during your college years. Take pictures. Lots of them. Put them somewhere safe.

You're going to struggle with your mental health throughout college. Ask for help if you need it. Don't be afraid or ashamed to take medication and go to therapy. You won't need it forever. Start practicing yoga now. And start blogging. If you don't, you won't have much of an outlet, plus you'll wish that you had a way to look back on what will be an amazing time of your life.

Be happy.

Be kind.

Be confident. You're better than you think.

Love, Gina