Regrettable Words

I was a Homecoming princess in high school.  But I was not “high caliber” enough popularity-wise to be mean to anyone.  I had an overprotective mother who drove me to and from school everyday when I was old enough to take the bus or even drive myself to school.  I knew that could be grounds for me to be a target of teasing.  People could have called me a baby.  But at their mercy, they didn’t.

So I played the nice person.  It was sort of like this: I won’t be mean to you if you won’t be mean to me.  I put on a fake smile to cover up my problems and issues.  I tried to get along with everyone, including those who were not popular, to avoid conflicts.

However, I did have one advantage.  I was relatively thin throughout my life.  I never had to deal with weight issues.  I was proud of that and was insensitive to people who were heavyset.

The end of senior year came.  Yearbooks were passed around everywhere in school.  This slightly overweight girl who I had never talked to handed me her yearbook to sign.  My first reaction was, I didn’t know her that well and wasn’t sure what to write.  Then an impulse came to me.  My mean streak would finally be revealed after all those years of suppressing it.  I decided to write something negative to her.  I didn’t mention her weight.  I didn’t want to be that straight forward.  I was always passive-aggressive.  So I wrote that I thought she was a snob and should humble down.  She was the only person I wrote something negative to.

I know that deep down inside, I didn’t write that because I thought she was conceited.  I did it because she was heavier than me and I wasn’t her friend.

The next day words spread that she was very hurt by what I wrote.  At that time, I didn’t feel any remorse for what I did.  As a matter of fact, I was secretly happy that my words were powerful enough to have an impact on somebody, negative though it was.  The bully in me finally came out.

Now, this girl I am talking about was super smart and had excellent grades.  So I know she is somewhere being a superstar in her career and cocktail parties.  As for me, I am still fixated on my high school days.  That would be her ultimate revenge.


I wish…


That my wardrobe of clothes

With odd sparkles and prints

Did not scream “clearance rack”

And provoke bone-chilling laughter


That there was no reverse discrimination

Where my peachy skin

Is indicative that I have not toiled enough

And should be toughened up

By mean words


That my curious eyes

Aren’t noticed for not crying

About the bad news on TV

Because I am too busy

Dodging insults and staying strong


That this lady didn’t say

That another lady’s stomach

Resembled a spinning Bingo ball

Because it made me wonder

If I would be her next target


That I didn’t live in a post-high school jungle

Where my nationality and my behaviors

Are nitpicked on and despised

Where bullying has no age limits