About The Curly Haired Introvert

A Message to Freshmen

Dear, @ccutkosky

I was terrified of going to high school too. My mom and a counselor had to walk me to my first class. I was five minutes late. All eyes were on me. My teacher was kind, though I didn't know just how much at the time.
She was so sweet. She turned out to be the most understanding person I have ever met. That teacher, my very first high school teacher? She became my best friend for all those four rollercoaster years. She helped me understand assignments. She listened to my problems and I listened to hers. If I had a problem I went to her. If I had nowhere else to go I would go to her. I spent so much time in her classroom. I would have never believed a teacher would become the person I was closest to, and not only that, but we BOTH had social anxiety. Can you imagine a teacher with social anxiety??? Standing up every day and teaching no filter teenage freshmen? She is by far the bravest teacher I have ever met.

I'm telling you this so that you know you will find friends in the most unlikely of places.

I wasn't the only scared freshmen. There's this girl who lives down the street from me and she was scared too. So scared, that she pretend she was taking the bus to school and sneaking back into her house through her bedroom window. When she finally did make it to school, I was the one who showed her to the office so she could get her schedule. We weren't friends, hadn't been for a long time, but she trusted me just enough to help her. I would have walked her to class too had I not already been waiting for her several minutes after the final bell.

Two years later we were both still the quite little girls who kept to ourselves. We had art class together and we both struggled to find our voices. We were talented enough to get passed art one, but the voices in our heads held us back from creating beautiful works. I struggled to start and complete projects and I would hear as the teacher urged her to work harder. We were both stuck, and the look on her face as the teacher said those words to her was the same as mine as the art instructor almost pleaded with me to get something done. We were sad, confused, and annoyed that others didn't understand.

Her name is Bethany and she graduated high school.

I went to high school with people who knew I was quite, who knew I never spoke a word in class. In my sophomore year of hs, my history teacher said my name wrong and I had to correct him for all to hear. People whispered. Later that year, my English 2 teacher partnered me with another girl. We had to analyze a poem, create a power point, and read them both out loud. I did all the work and the other girl presented it. Two things happened.

1) I got a lower grade than the girl who presented, even though I did all the research and created the power point. Not just any basic power point. No. I'm an artist and a writer, so it was one of the best in class. Probably the best, but I couldn't speak in front of people. Just stand there pink-faced as the other girl spoke the words I wish I could say. My teacher didn't understand so I got the lower grade of the two.

Life isn't always fair, I know, but I sure as hell passed that class in the end.

2) When the class saw how long the poem was (and it was long) some of the kids stood up for me. Some of them had even gasped. They reminded the teacher of how I didn't like to talk. These kids that spoke for me, in my defense, were some of the same kids who poked fun at me in middle school. I was shocked, but I, even now, was more grateful than they will ever know.

People will surprise you with the way they change and grow.

On June 5, 2017, I graduated high school.

I had a lot of memories I would rather forget. Being catcalled for the first time. Losing my best friend from middle school. Being called a hoe because I wouldn't help this guy with his homework. Getting lunch detentions that I didn't deserve. Breaking down in the hallway and skipping class for the first time because of it. Getting yelled at by that one bitch and getting constantly misjudged. Having friends that didn't understand and me knowing in my heart it wouldn't last. Seeing everyone get on with their lives and doing more than I was.

None of that matters.

Not when you're on that stage.

Not when your diploma is being placed in your hands.

Not when your entire class is clapping for their fellow senior graduate.

Not when you finally get say on Instagram: I just fucking graduated high school BITCHES.

Befriending the foreign exchange students. Laughing along with class as the class clown says something hilarious. Proving all those mean teachers wrong by passing their class. Meeting those people that leave lasting impressions worth a lifetime. Becoming a senior. Walking a friend to class or vice versa. Learning all those little things about yourself that make you, you.

Those are the things that matter.

Gorgeous little flower you are going to make good memories. You are going to get through those rough days and come back the next tougher, stronger, and shinier than any diamond out there. You are going to walk that stage and become the fiercest flower in the garden. I believe in you more than you will ever be able to know. I was scared too, but every day is one step closer to becoming your best self.

Much love little flower.

From yours truly,

The Curly Haired Introvert