Breathing my Mind into Your Face

I’m resentful toward:

• Catholic school social hierarchy and fitting in

The cause:

• I’m resentful because I just wanted to fit in. I moved to Jackson, MI halfway through third grade. Then after having a bad teacher at the public school for fourth grade my parents transferred me to St. John’s catholic school to start fifth grade. I remember being nervous but excited to start at the new school. In my memory I’m smiling and agreeable in my interactions with the people I was meeting. I don’t have any lingering resentment or bad memories from fifth and sixth grade. I remember some girls thinking I was cute and being called a skater by some of the guys because of my longer bangs. Even though I couldn’t skateboard to save my ass I didn’t do much to dispel the notion that I was a sk8r boi. I remember “going with” a girl named Heather for a couple weeks. We talked on the phone and sang “Opposites Attract” by Paula Abdul to each other while watching the video with the cartoon cat in it on MTV. I had her friend pass her a note saying it was over. She was pissed and called me names. We never did anything physical. We may have held hands, in which case my palms would’ve been sweaty. Any physical contact with the opposite sex made me very nervous.
• I remember making friends in those first couple years. I didn’t start to struggle until middle school. That’s when kids from the other catholic schools in town joined forces at Jackson Catholic Middle School. I was different. I was from Boston and I was a Celtics fan. I was little. I was funny in class but clammed up in group settings with the other boys outside class. I remember boys in circles. I wanted to fit in with the popular kids. I wanted to be on the basketball team. I didn’t know how to respond when someone poked fun at me. I liked to talk smack about the Celtics beating the Pistons. I thought it was all good natured smack talk and maybe it was to the other kids, but I remember a circle of kids around me chanting to go back to Boston and it didn’t seem good natured. I remember that incident because it’s the only time I threw a punch. I spun around and helicopter punched a couple kids and they were surprised. As if to say, “damn man, we were just kidding, what the fuck”. I was afraid to get my ass kicked so I was afraid to punch anyone. My mom always told me to turn the other cheek and not to respond to assholes with violence. Therefore I always reacted with comedy. What a shitty default setting this was. As a result of me having humorous reactions to being fucked with it made people want to fuck with me more.
• In high school I remember the boys table and wanting to sit at the end of it where the cool dudes sat. I remember getting there early and sitting down and people wondering what the fuck I was doing there. Or people putting their chairs inside mine in order to slide me down the table. I thought if I was in position with the cool dudes and I started talking and being entertaining they would be like, “We should invite Matt over, that dude is pretty funny.” Or maybe I’d get invited to the next boy/girl party. I flashback on all the faces of the cool kids and I see a similar fear and insecurity in them. If I had been fearless and lost my temper on a bully or two they probably would’ve left me alone. But I don’t think I wanted that. I didn’t have the confidence to live outside of the social hierarchy in a carefree way, content to be myself and attract others of a similar ilk. I needed to find a niche in the world of athletes and cheerleaders. I didn’t make the basketball team. I didn’t play football. I still thought I could be funny, even though I choked when I would try to regurgitate whatever Billy Madison quote I’d rehearsed the night before.
• I remember having my books knocked out of my hands, having my tie yanked down until it would rip, getting my balls thumped with the back of a wrist, being called gay, being called zits, no pubes, being pushed into the lockers, being called out just to embarrass me publicly. It made me cry at night and fear going to school. However, maybe it was better than being invisible in my mind. The alternative was solitude. I was a glutton for punishment. It was a small school so I’d go back every day. The worst was when I was on Accutane for my acne. It dried out my skin to the point of lizard. I stopped wanting to be noticed at all. I hated not being able to do anything about the acne. Why did I have it? Why did everyone have to see it and say something?
• Before the zits I was still a selfish and self-seeking kid. I wanted to be in the cool crew. There were plenty of kids I could’ve been great friends with if I hadn’t been busy trying too hard with kids that didn’t really want me to be around. I resent the other kids like me that actually liked hanging out with me but would ditch me as soon as a better offer from a cooler kid came along. I became mean to others for a time in an effort to emulate the behavior of my peers. I feel guilty. I still remember calling this one girl a bitch and this other a slut in middle school. I was mean.
• I’m angry because I was always made to feel less than and so I felt less than. I’ve spent the bulk of my life trying to fit into groups that I felt I should be in despite the reality of that not being the right fit for me. I fear the right fit. I should try to be me and the rest of these mother fuckers can take it or leave it. Have the confidence to be the best version of yourself even if people might make fun of it.