February 26, 2006

The other day a friend of mine and I had a conversation about a recent group outing.  One of the women with us spent a lot of time talking with all of the women but me.  I felt slighted.  I don’t know this woman all that well, but I couldn’t figure out why she would just blatantly be so rude.  My friend didn’t think she was being rude, said she just felt uncomfortable around me.   She said I make her nervous and intimidated her.  Just a few days prior someone else said the same thing about another woman.  This isn’t unfamiliar territory for me.   I started hearing similar things in 9^th grade.   

I moved from one school district to another in the middle of 8^th grade.  I came from a school where I had a lot of friends…where I was considered ‘popular’ (something extremely important to an 8^th grader).  We moved during winter break, so I had a few weeks in the neighborhood before I started school.  This gave me a chance to meet some of the kids on my street. When school started, I had two weeks left at my previous school to finish out the semester.  In that time, my neighbor told everyone at my new school he had a new neighbor who was “prettier than the most popular girl there”.  My first day of school not one single girl spoke to me.  The next day the ‘most popular girl’, who was obviously offended by my neighbors comment, threatened to “kick my ass” for ‘flirting’ with her boyfriend while walking to the bus.  I didn’t even know who her boyfriend was. I told her that would be fine, to go ahead and try.   She didn’t. Apparently someone overheard that conversation because soon the word was out, she was given a challenge and backed away.    

Shortly after that I learned she had told all of her friends  (or entourage, in my opinion) not to talk to me.  I don’t think she said, “Listen, rumor has it this girl is prettier than me.  That really threatens my security and I want you all to still think I’m the greatest thing around so you can’t talk to her because you might realize I’m not the greatest thing around and start being her followers.” I’m sure she said something entirely different and much more effective.  Whatever it was, it worked.  

A few days later we had to play racquetball in gym class.  Did I mention I grew up playing racquetball?  Well wouldn’t you know, that just made the whole thing worse because guess whom I had to play against? Now I’m not that competitive…okay, maybe to some degree, but frankly I’m more of a “do my best and screw the rest” kind of person.  If I’m better at something than someone it’s not because I’m competitive, it’s because I just happened to have put more into it at that moment than they might have.   You can probably figure out who won that game…and how quickly that got around.  

She must have been somewhat humbled because shortly after that I got an apology for the flirting accusation and acknowledgement that she was wrong.  I was shocked but honestly, I had no intention of investing any time in a person like that.   She asked me if we could be friends and I laughed in her face, telling her I didn’t need friends like her.  I’m thinking now that wasn’t the smartest move on my part.   

After a few months of no girls talking to me, having only boy ‘friends’ and having one of the ‘popular’ boys ask me out but then break up with me due to the pressure of dating the worst girl alive I was able to make a friend.  Wouldn’t you know it; it was Miss Popular’s best friend. Do I have the luck or what?   We were friends for about a month…I was thrilled because I really liked her.  But when Miss Popular threatened to have her status rescinded, I was out in a flash.   

I dealt with this the rest of the year and the following summer.  I had no real girl friends but every so often I was blessed with the attention from someone of my gender.   I went from being a confident girl to something beyond insecure.  There’s much more to part of the story, but I’m not going to bore you with those details.   

That next school year one of the popular girls who hated me in 8^th grade was in one of my classes.  Our teacher hooked us up for a project and we had to talk.  We became friends. (Miss Popular was at a different high school, thankfully.)  I asked her why everyone hated me when I’d not done a thing.  She told me straight out, “Because we were jealous of you.” I thought that was the funniest thing I’d ever heard.  We were friends for many years.  She actually gave me a chance and decided I wasn’t so bad after all.  She was one of the few though…things weren’t really better that year.  Reputations stick and I had one, deserved or not.   

After my freshman year we moved again and I felt like I’d been given a chance to be the person I was before I became the worst of all-evil.  I’m thankful to say I immediately met a great girl who introduced me to a lot of people and within a few days I felt like the old me again.  Of course this girl’s ‘best friend’ hated me.  Imagine that. She threatened to beat me up, called me nasty names and tried to spread rumors about me.  Finally, after several threats to “kick my ass” I finally said, “You know what, just go ahead and do it. You seem to think you can, so go ahead. You’ve threatened me for months now.  Just do it.”  She backed down and really never bothered me again.  

I continued to have a great time in high school and had a great group of friends, but there was always girls who didn’t like me.  Girls that had never given me a chance but decided they didn’t like me for reasons they thought were justifiable.  In college I had a dorm mate who I got along great with on the phone, but when we met she instantly didn’t like me.  At least she had the consideration to be honest about it.  She felt I was the stereotypical sorority girl; petite, blond hair, blue eyes. Nice of her to even give me a chance.  Oh, and I never joined a sorority.  I was a campus cop.  Those two didn’t mix.  

After Miss Popular and the events of my freshman year, I made a promise to myself that I would never allow anyone to treat me that way again.  I worked hard to rebuild my confidence and do what I felt necessary to defend myself.  With that being said, I made a concentrated effort to become the person I wanted to be; confident, well-spoken and not afraid to say what I think or how I feel.  I wanted people to know that what they saw was what they got.  You’d always know where you stood with me, whether you liked it or not.  

I am still that person today.  Add to that a few traits brought on by other life circumstances and I’ve been shaped into a fairly confident, sort of well adjusted, anal retentive, opinionated, strong willed woman.  Apparently people see that and some of those people aren’t able to deal with it.  Add to those traits relatively decent looks (some say I’m attractive and though I’m not sure I’m that, I don’t think I need to wear a bag over my head either) and a bit of intelligence (along with my fathers genetically transferred natural frown) and I’m pegged for a bitch.  That’s usually everyone’s first opinion of me.  I’m married now, but prior I had a high paying job in a large company where I excelled at what I did.  That’s a few strikes against me before I even get to up to bat.  After I got married, I quick working, got the big house, starting driving a higher priced (but certainly not highest priced) car and added even more stereotypes to my list. Women at work didn’t like me and women who knew my husband didn’t like me either.  Add to all of that, since day one, my comfort around men (I have three brothers) and I’m even more of a problem. 

Yes, if you see me, you’ll likely think I’m a bitch.  Apparently I’ve got that look. And let’s be honest here, when the feeling strikes, I can out-bitch the best of them.  I’m Italian, it’s in my genes. But what you see isn’t always the truth and it frustrates me that so often people feel threatened, maybe insecure for whatever reason (we all have our own insecurities, trust me, I’ve got hundreds of my own) or intimidated by me.  Really, this shouldn’t be my problem.  I’m not the one that makes them feel that way.   They feel that way because of what they think about themselves, not because of who I really am.  Knowing that however, doesn’t make it any easier.  It still hurts, the judging… 

More times than not I’ve been told by good friends that when they first met me, they didn’t like me.   Then they say they didn’t really give me a chance but after spending some time with me, realized I wasn’t at all what they thought.  They saw that yes, I may be confident, I may say what I think, I may have blond (albeit bleached now) hair, and I may drive a sort of expensive car, but I’m actually a pretty decent person.   

I have to work at making friends because it’s never been easy for me.  Not because I’m not capable, because again, it’s really not about me.  Since I know that, I always try hard to show people that I’m not what’s usually presumed.  I have to try hard to make people see me as human; as a person with feelings, just like everyone else out there.  Since friendships have never come easily for me I’m usually the one to put in the most effort.  Sure, I have friends who’ve given more to the friendship and friends who share the effort equally.  But for the most part, I work hard to prove myself, prove I’m the person I am, not the person they think.  

So I have to admit, when I was told these women felt intimidated and uncomfortable around me, it really hurt.  I don’t specifically do anything to make people feel that way.  I have to believe it’s their issue, not mine.  But honestly, that doesn’t make it any better.  Doesn’t make the fact that someone is basically unwilling to give me a chance, hurt less. It might even hurt more because I know that I am a good friend and I can give so much to people.   

Yes, by common standards, I’m relatively attractive.  I drive a nice car, have a nice home and our income is comfortable.  I’m intelligent, I speak my mind and I appear to have confidence (though sometimes I really have none and it’s all an act).  None of that however should make me poisonous to others and you know what, that’s really how I feel a lot of the time.  I’m told those who may not have what I do, or look like I do feel as though they’re poisonous to others - because of what they lack…interesting that I feel poisonous for what I don’t lack.   

Funny world, isn’t it?