Other
Safe
By Pamela Kliewer
July 2009
September 15, 1975
Dear Diary,
I can’t believe what happened at school today. We didn’t have to dress down for gym class, because we were just playing Ping-Pong and stuff like that. I was glad we didn’t have to dress down because I hate those ugly one-piece outfits we have to wear. But, anyway, I was sitting on the floor waiting my turn for something and Ruth was sitting next to me. All of sudden she looked at me and said, “You’re socks don’t match your shirt. Don’t you know you’re supposed to wear socks that are the same color as your shirt?”
What could I say? No I didn’t know that. I wished the gym floor had opened up and let me crawl into it. I was mortified! Who cares if my socks don’t match my shirt? Uppity Ruth, that’s who. Good grief.
I feel like a real dweeb. Now everyone is gonna be looking at my socks to see if they match my shirt. I don’t want to care, but I do. It’s so hard to fit in. I hate it.
November 29, 1975
Dear Diary,
Today was picture day. I was all excited until I got made fun of for what I was wearing. I wore that really pretty dress from the Garber girls. I love hand-me-downs and they always have such pretty things to give me.
The short-sleeved dress I chose for pictures looks like crushed velvet. It’s kind of purply-pink. It has 3 white stripes going down the chest with tiny flowers on them. The skirt falls just below my knees.
I couldn’t do much with my hair, since it’s short right now, but it looked pretty good, kind of wavy.
This dress is so pretty… at least I thought so until today. As I sashayed down the hallway, feeling oh so feminine and alive, Sherry, who used to be a good friend in 6th grade walked by and in a real snotty voice said to me, “Who do you think you are, a princess?”
Why would she say something like that to me? I walked on past her, going a bit faster. I had to get to the restroom so I could cry. I’m glad my picture had already been taken. I wouldn’t look too cool with my face all red.
When I got home from school I stuffed that dress clear in the back of my closet. I’ll never wear it again. I think I’ll stick to wearing jeans and shirts… it hurts too much to try and be feminine.
December 1 1975
Dear Diary,
I can’t believe I haven’t written about Ms. Schroeder yet. She is the neatest teacher I have ever had! She’s my Core teacher and I just like her so much. She makes me feel soooo special, like I’m really something.
Today at the start of class, I went to sit down in my chair and Jimmy pulled my chair out from under me… I fell hard to the floor and oh! that hurt so bad. Ms. Schroeder let Jimmy have it but good… but she didn’t do it in a mean or hard way, she just gently talked to him. She is sooo cool.
We keep journals in her class and we can write whatever we want. She reads them and writes comments. She makes me feel like I really have something to say… like… every word is important.
This year is gonna be all right with Ms. Schroeder’s class to look forward to every day. The one bright spot in this sea of turmoil. I never knew being a teen was gonna be so hard.
Gotta scoot for now – Mom’s calling me to supper.
December 2, 1975
Dear Diary,
Half the time I don’t even know what I’m thinking or doing. Who knew that being 14 would be so rough? I feel like I’m this princess stuck in a little girl’s body and have no idea how to be a princess. So much of the time I just feel like crying. My mind swirls with all these thoughts, hopes and dreams.
I have all this stuff inside of me begging to get out, but I really don’t think anyone wants to listen to me… I’m glad I have you to talk to and that I can write in my journal for Ms. Schroeder. She never laughs at me or calls me stupid. I guess… she’s safe. And that’s what I need to feel right now… safe.
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It's quite an emotional flashback to being a teenager.
Thank for the honesty, for be willing to share your feelings and your emotions so honestly in the pages of your diary.
This thinking makes me more in tune with my 3 grandsons, 13, 14, 16.
Mona