The Small Years

As an overthinker, I think about a lot of stuff, and there are certain things I think about more so than others — who I am, where I am, where I’m going. But one of the things I think about most is what other people think of me. Always have. Don’t mean to, or want to, just do.

I was a small kid growing up. Skinny. I’m talking frail. I couldn’t gain weight no matter how I tried. I’d take weight-gain powder every morning before school. Mixed it with milk. Tasted like shit. I just wanted to gain a few pounds and grow a few inches so I could be like the “cool” guys and get the girls the “cool” guys got.

It didn’t really bother me until I got to high school. That’s when I noticed how severely tiny I was. I was by far the smallest guy in my class. I looked like a fifth grader until I was a junior. Not an exaggeration.

Because I was smaller and weaker, I was an easy target. I got picked on a lot. I was a nice kid, and for the most part I fit in. I was always the one who got along with everybody — the “cool” kids and the “losers.” Those weren’t labels I put on them. I didn’t care what somebody looked like or what kind of shoes they wore. As long as they were good people, they were cool by me. But unfortunately, that’s not how things work in the real world.

It was always the same group of d-bags that made me feel small. I’ve seen some of these guys over the years and noticed that karma has kicked them square in the teeth a few times, apparently causing a few of those teeth to fall out. Not good. Looking back, they probably had their own reasons for the way they were. Not that I feel sorry for them. Still think they were d-bags. But people usually act the way they do for a reason.

I don’t feel sorry for myself either. I know I’m not the only one to ever get picked on. But it is frustrating that I let those “small years” have a pretty big impact on who I am now.

I did eventually gain weight and get taller. Didn’t even need the shitty tasting powder to get there. I even ended up getting a few of the girls that the “cool” guys got. For the most part, I turned out ok, but no matter how hard I’ve tried, some of that shit from back then still has a say in how things go now. You would think that at my age that stuff would be long gone. But ask anybody who really knows me — I tend to hold onto things. 

I can say, that as I get older, I realize what and who really matters. And I know that not everybody has to like me — because I certainly don’t like everybody, not even close. Wish I could go back, knowing what I know now. I wouldn’t spend so much time trying to fit in with the people I didn’t really care about in the first place.

But that’s not how things work in the real world.

The lesson: Just be you. Even if you’re the smallest kid in your class. The people who matter will be ok with that. The people who don’t — screw ‘em, they have their own shit to deal with. And if karma has a say, maybe a few of their teeth will fall out.

JS