The Little Rebel

When I was three and wasn't running behind my best friend of that era, I would sit down and read books far beyond my age bracket. Already preparing myself for a life of isolation.

When I was in primary school I was praised for being so quick and clever and smart. Never pretty, like all the other girls. Perhaps that is why I don't tolerate compliments even now. Boys would shun me because I wasn't 'fresh' or flirty, and I suffered many foolish, premature heartbreaks back then. I always wondered about the boys my thoughts would tend to flit to back then, and wondered if they knew how badly their words wounded me, how much they broke my fragile little spirit- already alienated for being too quick, too clever, too smart- with their words about how no one could ever like me.

Thinking about it now, the fights I used to get into... they make much more sense now. The lashings I would give out when a boy would look at me funny, the way I'd cuss at them like the rowdiest sailor on the boat, the "fuck off" attitude I developed over the years.. perhaps that was just the little rebel in me striking out against the 8 years of constant punishment I was being given for being simply myself.

Too quick, too clever, too smart. Never pretty.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008