People tell me that I am funny, but that only happened so that I could survive in the wild. Humor was my defensive mechanism that I developed in order to survive elementary and middle school, similar to a chameleon’s camouflage. I fully believe in natural selection and modern adaptation only because I am a walking example of it. I was exceptionally hideous in elementary school and to survive my peers and neighborhoods, I had to develop one hell of a personality because I couldn’t rely on cute and pretty, well at least not until puberty.
I spent my elementary years being the only white girl in my class, but race isn’t an issue to children between the ages of five and ten; however, deformed teeth and pot - bellies are. Therefore, when I was told I needed glasses in first grade, I cried. The kids in my class made fun of me all the time in a language I never understood –glasses would only add fuel to the fire. It would be one more thing for small non-English speakers to gawk at.
My family eventually moved from gang-infested-inner-city Houston to the boonies of suburbia where all the richer drug dealers, rappers, and lower-upper class oil tycoons dwelled. I went through an interesting culture shock: my former instructors at Cimmeron Elementry did not care if everyone could see the board. They where more concerned if all the students fully understood the English alphabet and numbers. At my new school the teachers wanted everyone to see the board, so they insisted I wear my glasses. I had the mouth of an Orc, freckles like a pig, pale pasty skin, and thick glasses; I was the ugliest child in my whole elementary school. I was constantly made fun of and didn’t fit in with anyone, not even with the other misfit toys; the other ugly kids were over-weight and since I ran for Track Houston, I just wasn’t one of them (needless to say those bitches were the worst).
A concept that perplexes me: if one person does not fit into any clique between the first and eighth grade the administration feels that there is something wrong with the outcast; there was nothing wrong with me, kids are just mean. My teachers would insist on me going to the counselor’s office during my recess to have some type of psychological analysis done to me, instead of enjoying the 110-degree heat with all the other kids. They would ask questions like, “Why do you think that the other children dislike you?” and, “why do you feel the need to not play with the other children?” All of that analysis business led to me fabricating to the counselors that I had friends in my youth group, as well as convincing my parents that I had friends at school. Here’s the thing, I was perfectly content flipping through the pages of my Frida Kahlo book and Vogue; I didn’t need all of those pretty children’s friendships. I figured if they didn’t want to be friends with me why would I waste my time and energy on them?
The lying eventually caught up with me. You know what they call children who make up friends? Not cute, they call them pathological liars. So because my sister had several near death experiences, my parents blamed my pathological lying on that; me trying to explain my actions and line of thought to the counselors and my parents was just futile. In order to appease the old folks I needed to have actual friendships. Well, that didn’t happen ‘till puberty –sweet, sweet puberty. The first stages of puberty commenced with my breast growing, then I artificially enhanced my appearance by getting contacts, and then having mouth surgery alongside braces. Needless to say by the time I was thirteen I was looking pretty good. Once I started looking normal, I started acquiring friends and not made up ones either, the real kind. And on top of that, boys started being quite nice to me.
This is not a woe to me tale, it is a testament to hopefully convenience you of evolution. Had I not evolved an interesting personality and sense of humor, or at the very least the ability to amuse myself, maybe i would be crazy by now, or at least an introvert. But that’s not what happened. I made it to twenty with a decent personality, sense of humor, and moderately good looks. If it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone.
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