In the seventh grade, I remember telling a girl that she was beautiful and that if I were a guy, I would date her. And she was beautiful. Golden brown hair, bright green eyes, contagious laugh. Of course, within seconds, the entire school started calling me a lesbian: it was considered "name-calling" because I was incredibly insulted.
Even if it's what you are, to be labeled as "other" by your peers, especially during a time when you want nothing more than to be invisible. For the fat girl to be invisible was such a huge accomplishment. The only attention I remember getting from my peers focused solely on my boobs- the fat in my chest.
For the fat girl to be heard was equally unattainable. I played Edmund in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in 7th grade; I wasn't even pretty enough to play the wicked witch. I was onstage, mocking myself, destroying the lives of people I loved for a dessert that would love me back. I pushed people away, kept things superficial, lying to everyone and myself. But at least as Edmund, I could play up the angle of being sexually attracted to the witch: if you have a dick, that's allowed.
Today, I still don't like the label "lesbian." Just call me a big ol' "dyke."
1 comment:
Edmund... nice... it's so funny how things from the past can turn out to be so symbolic, even if you don't see it at the time or ignore your reasons for doing things.
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