The Stink I'll Never Quite Shake

When I was eight years old my life was a mess. My father recently left the Navy and my parents bought a duplex in the then-developing Pasadena, Maryland. After we moved off base, my brother and I moved back and forth between 2 schools.

First, we started in our districted public school. Then we changed back to the private school near the base because my parents wanted to keep us in the academy where we had been the year before. But from what I could tell, the commute and the tuition payments were too much for my parents and so finally, we were put back in the public school that we had started in the beginning of the year.

Flip, flop. Also, this all happened within the first quarter of the school year.

Since my father left the Navy, he found it difficult to keep a job. He had several jobs that I remember. He was a carpet layer (too hard on his knees), a cable guy (we had free cable in our basement), and an electrical tower climber (he's afraid of heights so that one didn't last long). Thankfully, all this time my mother was at home. She babysat all of the neighborhood kids. I loved that because it meant that all of the kids were at our house to play all the time. I make this point because I had a hard time making friends at school. Maybe it was the flip flop move, or maybe it was just my personality. 

You see, the way I remember it, shortly after I was put BACK into the public school, there was discussion about them wanting me to skip ahead to 4th grade because my private schooling had me above the rest of the 3rd grade students. My parents must have known that wouldn't be good for me, so instead they all agreed to just move me up to a higher classroom within the 3rd grade cluster.

(Thank you for bearing with me through all that back story. THIS is where the story gets good - for the reader.)

I peed myself on the first day in my new classroom. Yes, literally. 

You see, I was warned by the very few friends I actually did have in my old class that my new teacher was really, REALLY mean. And after I got moved into the new classroom and embarrassingly introduced to the entire class in the middle of math class, I realized that I really had to pee. I looked around the classroom and saw a list of rules on the bulletin board. There were VERY strict bathroom break rules and my immature and anxious eight year mind couldn't see the obvious reason why THIS would be an exception.

So... I held it. I held it for as long as I could before I just couldn't anymore.

Until in the middle of Literature class, while someone was reading out loud, I peed. Yep. I just sat there, in my steaming plastic chair and I peed, as quietly as I could, right through my jean skirt. 

I hoped that it would absorb and go away before we were released for recess and then lunch. But with the combination of the the thick 1980's denim and the non absorbent orange plastic chair and all... that didn't happen. So, when we were released for recess, as everyone else got up and RAN to their cubbies to grab their metal Transformer and My Little Pony lunch boxes and escape to the refreshing fall air for a frolic, I sat. And I waited. When I was sure there was no one else in the room, I got up and switched my chair with one from an unused desk (somehow I was still convinced that the janitor would know it was me that urinated in that chair and made the switch, but it would be our secret).

Then I went to my cubby, hoping that somewhere in there I could find something to wrap around my waist. But no. So, I spent the entire first recess among my new (of higher intelligence) peers, leaning against the brick walls of the school. I watched like a wall flower while all of my potential new friends played four square and jump rope. A couple of girls approached me and I deflected them. A boy started teasing me - as boys do - and that was that.

When recess was over, I stayed with my back to the wall and waited to get in the back of the line. No one would see the wet itchy wet spot on the back of my jean skirt. This was my secret. Tomorrow, I'd pee before school and not drink anything all day. I'd start all over and tomorrow, I'd make friends.

But my odd behavior didn't go unnoticed. By the next morning, I had already made a terrible first impression. And even though (I don't think) anyone ever caught on to the fact that I had wet myself in their presence, I was already labeled as a quiet, weird kid. And so it was. My destiny was chosen. I would forever play with the weird kids and the kids that still picked their noses and ate it.

And that pretty much explains the rest of my early childhood education and relationships.

The truth is, as much as I moved, you would have thought that I'd be able to shake the stink of that day. But no. There is more. So much more. It's like I was permanently tainted. Every school I'd go to, somehow, I'd find a way of making a fool of myself. I'd find a way to never really fit in - to embarrass myself (even if no one else knew) to the point that I had to mingle with the unpopulars.

I tell this story, because I realize now, that this story is a huge part of who I am. Well that story and others - like when I was in 8th grade and we moved out of the school district, my mother worked it out with the Board of Ed that I could ride the High School bus (the high school was right next to the middle school but in two different districts). It seemed perfect right? Yeah, the catch was, I was forced to sit with a mentally handicapped girl in the front of the bus then escort her to her class before I reported to my own. The High Schoolers HATED me, because apparently we made them late for their first period. The following year, when I was in high school, I had already destroyed any chance of them liking me.

So, this is who I am. I am a dork - an outsider.. Sure I can hold a conversation with anyone because, I found a way. I made jokes and I took the insults. I tolerated the hate without losing my cool.

I am who I am because of those difficult situations. I managed to not give up even though I was put in the most humiliating situations. And instead, I made a name for myself. Early on. I learned how to deal with adversity. I learned how to accept embarrassment. I learned that I will never be perfect, or popular, or even normal. But I'll always be me. And I'll always be kind and smart and funny (and a little neurotic). But that's what makes me me. And I kind of like me.