Danielle: So not cool

Mary Cates. My elementary/middle school bully.

I realize calling her out now makes me appear sorta stalker-ish. I SO do not stalk her. (Although I think we may be "friends" on facebook. Not entirely sure. Probably not for long though, should she, or anyone she associates with read this.) 

There was a girl I went to elementary school with who was the most popular girl. I can remember wanting to BE just like her. DRESS just like her. ACT just like her. For goodness sake...carry the same lunch box as her. Because I thought in doing that, it would make me popular and cool. Not because I had some weird obsession with her. I just admired how cool everyone else thought she was. She got the attention. And she drew crowds. She was the "it" girl of elementary and middle school. When I was in elementary and middle school...I WAS NOT COOL. No part of me was even remotely cool. I had braces. And huge glasses. And a bad 80's perm. And garage-sale clothes. Oh yeah...and I was super skinny. I felt so awkward and weird. I didn't quite fit in with the cool kids, but then I wasn't exactly a complete weirdo either. I was stuck in the middle. Sure, I had friends. But, I was the girl who invited the popular girls to my birthday party and desparatly hoped they would attend. (And I hoped they would not be offended by the trailer park I lived in.) 

My mom worked so hard, probably harder than I even know, to provide her best for me. And sometimes her best was Wal-Mart shoes and sometimes her best was something better. I remember when Keds shoes were in-style. I had somehow obtained a coveted pair and when they became worn out, my mom couldn't afford a replacement pair. Instead, I got the Dollar Store version. I was so desperate to hang on to my Keds which I felt were my license into "coolville". So, what did I do? I pulled the blue Keds logo off the back of the shoe and glued it to my new pair of fakers. I was desperate. Part of the reason I was so desperate was because this one girl, Mary Cates, would make fun of me. I'm sure she is a very nice person now...well...sorta sure. And she probably has no idea she had such an impact on my childhood. But I remember once she lowered herself to actually ride on the public school bus that I rode home on each day. She made some rude comment about my clothes and me being poor. I can remember feeling so low; like I did not even have enough strength to defend myself or come back with a biting, witty comment. And that's how I remember her. Yet I still remember thanking God that she would even let me talk within the same crowd as she. And now, as an adult, I wouldn't trade my Dollar Store white canvas shoes for her Keds anyday. I'm glad I know what it means to want. I'm glad I know the sadness of wanting to be popular and feeling like it was unattainable. It has made me more sensitive to people, and especially children. When I see kids with braces or acne or glasses, (or a bad 80's perm), I always tell them how pretty or handsome they are. And the strange thing is - they really are to me. I think "awkward" kids are beautiful. I want every child to feel "pretty", "cool", or "cute". I can spot these kids out like I had geek-a-vision. And I love them from the depth of my heart. And when I see other children being mean to them - the Momma Bear comes out in me and lets out an equally mean growl. I am quick to address them on their attitude - even if they are strangers. Because the little one they are picking on is me - when I was a kid. And I'd do anything to reassure a child that they are in fact precious, beautiful, cool, and super-awesome. 

This was me at the absolute peak of my ugly phase.

I wasn't even sure how to smile with braces.

Now, I know I have made fun of people many times in my life. And there may be some blog out there with my name on it and how I single-handly ruined someone's life (ok, that was a bit dramatic). And should that be true - I AM SORRY. 

I have poked fun at the girl in Wal-Mart who knew better than to wear leggings that didn't cover her butt. I have made fun of people who can't dance and laughed hysterically while I took pleasure in their lack of skills. I made fun of a plumber when he bent down in front of the sink and exclaimed "Hey, crack kills!" And I have certainly took extra time making fun of others who have ever particullarly hurt me or anyone I love. And while I want this blog to remain light-hearted and funny, I do not want to say what I did was right. However, between my sarcasm and often times harsh, yet witty remarks, lies a very vulnerable and senstive gal who has no desire to tear town others or be that dreaded mean girl. I can have a good laugh just like everyone else. But when it comes to being downright mean, I'd like to think I try hard not to be mean. I try to see the good in everyone. I forgive quicker than I will hold on to a grude. (Perhaps when I should be reminding myself that while everyone is worthy of forgiveness, it is often times necessary to forgive...and then move on from that person.) 

But you know what really gets my...well...they say..."underwear in a bunch"? (That's code for: gets me super pissed off.) It is when people, namely, children, get their spirit crushed by hurtful words or actions. Sometimes we can be so cruel as adults, that we teach children it's okay to tear others down. I don't mean laughing at someone at Wal-Mart because they wore something funny. I mean the kind of meanness that cuts to the core of someone's spirit - bullying. And something that can be remembered for quite some time. 

I hope we can all become adults who, simply put, aren't mean.

And Mary Cates, I forgive you.