High school...when I went, not where I teach

So this Tuesday I was able to meet up with two girls I had been friends with in high school, but hadn't seen, essentially, since graduation 12 years ago. We had so much in common, even after all those years and meeting was, at least on my end, really cathartic.

You see, high school was pretty hellish for me. I think it's that way for a lot of people, but it, I don't remember much of it fondly.

It's sad, really. I'm sure there was a lot about high school that was awesome. I can remember Mr. Barrett, beach, and a few friends. I remember some fun times, but overwhelmingly, when I think back to high school, the only memories that flood my mind are the ones that are negative, the ones that surround Austin's conception and birth.

Really it began before that, with my first bf. After he took a piece of me away, I never really was the same. It set into motion a series of events that would forever change my life. Then so many people chose my ex over me. So many people stopped talking to me after we broke up, after they found out. So many people made judgements and comments that, even 12 years later, have not lost their sting. I try so hard to get over it, but some nights, pathetically, I find myself chasing down a friend trail on FB only to learn something else about one of those former friends. Always wanting to reach out, to say hi, and to check to see if I really am remembering things correctly.

Did they really end that badly? If I friend you, what will be your response? A second rejection? A nostalgic, "Wendy? Wow...I remember her. I wonder how she's been." Or, perhaps the worst, "Who?" Do you feel as sick to your stomach when you think back to those days as I do?

Sometimes, I share these thoughts with my husband and he just shakes his head. He doesn't get it. Maybe you, dear reader, don't either. I can tell you who does, those of you who had your hearts ripped out in high school.

It's such a dangerous place. Some escape unscathed and live life without any discernible scars. You're the precious few who tell me, with excitement on parent's night, that you wish you could go back to high school, that your kid is so lucky to be beginning the best days of his/her life

And then there are the rest of us. The living, breathing, messes who had our souls sucked out of our bodies, stomped on, and left for dead. It changes us, forever shaping our conceptions of the world, of relationships.

Tonight, got to thinking about this more as I talked with my mom. We were lucky enough to get to ride together down to S-F to see Austin for Boy Scout family night. During the 2 hour drive there and the 2 hour drive back we were able to share so much. I remembered and talked through dark parts of those four years that I had successfully blocked out. But this time I owned it.

And though I hate the thought of what high school did to me, or rather, of what I let high school do to me, I realize, with a measure of gratitude, that it is the reason I've finally found so much happiness and peace. If my friends hadn't driven me away, into another's arms, I wouldn't have Austin, arguably the first best thing that ever happened to me. Additionally, my calling as a teacher most certainly began as Mr. Barrett was making life more bearable with his humor, with his sincerity, with his demeanor. My desperation to make a friend after the horrors of loss I faced in high school led to me coming out of my shell and actually talking to one of the best friends I've ever had, Renee. My need for money to pay for Austin's diapers led me to swallow my pride and take a job at McDonald's, the place where I met my amazing friend Stephanie, a woman who is single-handedly responsible for my meeting my husband. Because of the pain that lingered, I've gradually found my voice. I've gradually learned that playing silent and being hurt, will not serve to teach those pain-inflecters a message in compassion, but will only serve to hurt me more.

So I guess, despite the pain, the scars, the craziness I've carried around forever, high school was good for me. All the same, I'd just as soon Austin survives it without all the scars.