I never had a homecoming. When I was eighteen, I cut out pictures of beautiful dresses, and pasted them into my journal, and showed them to my best gal friend.
The closest I came to a homecoming was my friend’s eighteenth birthday party. We all got to dress up all beautiful. I wore green nail polish, and a pretty summer dress, and sparkles on my face like a fairy, and a beautiful mask (it was a masquerade). I think I may have had a henna tattoo all up and down my arm too.
There weren’t enough guys there to dance with, but I had fun anyway. Just dressing up was really fun. Girls really do dream about getting swept off their feet. Us poor romantic souls. Every girl dreams of that.
I used to dance off at WWU. There was this guy who was an extremely good dancer. But he was so arrogant, and made fun of me when I made a mistake. I hated that. I felt like I was so stupid. But… I was a highland dancer, and much more talented than him. That made up for a lot. No one in that class could dance as beautifully or gracefully as I could.
Girls aren’t nice. I’ll just put it that way. Girls hate other girls to whom guys are attracted to. That was one of the reasons I didn’t have very many gal friends off at WWU. I had to learn that the hard way.
Some of my gal friends were different though. One was a highland dancer friend, who had Jewish blood in her. After that one awful quarter, I came and cried to her and my other friend, and they listened to me and cared about me, and I needed that so desperately. We could talk Lord of the Rings for hours, or go out bushwhacking up in the arboretum. Friends like that helped me out a lot.
She wasn’t a Christian. Sometimes the “Christians” were the worst of the worst. And I’ve had many, many similar experiences since then. Girls are just plain mean. With guys, they knock each other’s brains out, and that solves that. Girls are much worse. They know how to “do you under” socially, and make your life like hell.
His ex did that to me. I can’t even begin to describe how badly she hurt me, or how badly he hurt me, there at the end. She never really dated him. She just led him on, and enjoyed having him on her arm, even though she had a boyfriend. And he always made excuses for her. I grew to understand that he loved her, never me.
She hurt me so very badly. I was stupid enough to get myself into that mess though. It was a party group. We played games every whatever-day-of-the-week-that-was. Her brother flirted with me, and I never trusted him (and there are some other stories there). Her youngest brother was a snob. She was a snob too. She treated me like I was dumb (and I’m not. But it still hurt).
She said untrue things about another gal friend of mine, trying to besmear her name. Her family was as wicked as she was, and they made sure I knew how unwelcome I was in their house.
His dad. My boyfriend’s dad. He was not a good man. That was not a good family. He carried a picture of me around with him, showing people his son’s “hot” girlfriend (how do you think that makes a woman feel?).
His mom. She told her son that I was too strong-willed for him. I never told her about her son’s past. He said she wouldn’t want to know. I never told her that me being strong-willed protected her son from so much evil–that he was trying to talk me into, and failed at.
But girls. Girls are cruel. My boyfriend told me to just stop coming if I was so darn uncomfortable, and didn’t I trust him? She made fun of me in front of him. I asked him, please please please could we stop hanging out with them. He said no.
Girls are cruel. Life is cruel. We once sat in his car in the rain, chatting (thankfully). He saw her out of the corner of his eye, and said, “Oh look, there’s Becky.”
When he first introduced me to her, he said that “Oh this is Becky, my girlfriend. I mean, Arielle.”
Do you have any idea how painful that is?
Girls are cruel. And I struggle, so very badly, trusting people. I struggle so badly. Why are people so mean?