How I Managed To Ruin Someone’s Life (A True Story)

If you know me, the title of this blog might frighten you. Did Taylor really seem like the type? Before you jump to yes, Mom, rest assured that I didn’t realize I had ruined someone’s life until today. I was not hiding in secrecy. There was no way for you to see this coming. You are a wonderful mother, but your daughter did successfully (and unintentionally) impact someone. Sorry bout that.


2003 (I’m pretty sure it was 2003)

Eighth grade was the year I changed the most. I went to public school for the first time and broke out of my shy shell. Fourteen years of miming my way through conversations were over. I was a new talkative woman! As I say this, I do want you to realize that I went from being silent to being able to hold a normal conversation without a panic attack. It was BIG!) Within the eighth grade hall, there were teams. Dependent on what team you were on showed you where your classrooms were located. I was on the Blue Pelican Team!. The exclamation point was part of the team name. I don’t know why they had to make them blue, there was not a Green Pelican Team!. Nor do blue pelicans actually exist… right? Anyways, The Blue Pelicans! were at the end of the hall. You see, my script went slanted because that was the coolest team. All of the popular kids in eighth grade somehow were always on the Blue Pelican Team!. And so was I!.

Also on the Blue Pelican Team! was.. Well, let’s call her Annie. Little Annie was part Indian and American, which really did her justice. She looked like that girl from Slumdog Millionaire. Anyways, Little Annie was also painfully shy. She had just moved from somewhere foreign and had zero friends. I was not threatening, was nice, and didn’t say much so we stuck together. I started to make other friends, which made Little Annie mad. At one point I had three separate groups of friends. Apprehensive Annie and a kid that looked like Donnie Darko, my punk-goth friends (who I unfortunately started dressing like) and my friends from another team. They were The Green Seahorses! or something like that. I tried to bring them all together, but it was impossible. Everyone became socially inept as you would expect awkward middle schoolers to.

Angry Annie stopped talking to me. She was furious that I became really good friends with a goth girl, but goth girl was SO NICE (and she liked to watch really bad movies with me!). I tried to make up with Appalling Annie, but she was so far gone with unexplainable anger. Literally. I don’t know how to explain how mad she was.

Then one day it happened. One of the most popular boys, Justin, said to Abominable Annie, “You know, now that I think about it, you’re actually pretty.” I remember these words because I expected her to lash out at him, as she did me. Instead, hearts replaced her eyeballs and she glued herself to his side. Algae Annie (I’m running out) had found an in and wasn’t ever letting go.

I remember one day Atrocious Annie came into Social Studies, stopped in front of my desk and stared at me. She then looked up to Justin and asked, “Would you still like me if I was fat?” To which Justin replied, “Nope.” I wasn’t mortified. I was hurt. I was also surprised that she liked someone so much who only liked her because she was thin. Welcome to the real world, Taylor.

In middle school, that was the only time I can think of when someone made me feel less than who I was. Antagonizer Annie would go out of her way to call me fat or “unpopular skank.” No one else made fun of me because I had nice hair and was about 5’7. That means I was taller than most of my teachers. Side note: my science teacher used to spell my name Taelour. She will probably be the worst speller I will ever encounter. I hope.

In November of what I think was 2004, I was diagnosed with arthritis. I was in and out of school and on a handful of medications. When I was in class, I was so tired that it was all I could do not to fall asleep right there. I remember my English teacher trying to tell me it would be okay and instead, she started balling about my situation. It made her so sad to see me like this. I remember consoling her that I would be okay. That only seemed to make it worse.

After Christmas, my mom decided to pull me out of school and have a tutor from Wake County come to my house and teach me nothing. That’s not true. She taught me never to be a chain smoker because your voice will drop and the smell will never come out. Anyways, on my last day of real school, Awful Annie decided to attack me one more time in class. My teacher yelled at her and told her that I had just been diagnosed with a crippling disease (thanks). I turned to Atrocious Annie and said in a whisper, “You did this to me” and I walked out, never to be seen again.


November 3, 2011

I am sick. I stayed home from class today because I was in between wanting to throw up and pass out. However, my phone is broken and because the state of my phone triumphs my health, I took it to the Sprint store. I was explaining to the Sprint man how my phone was broken when I heard the sound of a phone hit the floor. We all looked over and saw the white iPhone 4s on the ground with a brand new broken screen. It’s owner was: Alarmed Annie.

She was looking at me as if I somehow had been raised from the dead. I pretended that I didn’t recognize her and gave her a sympathetic look about her iPhone (of course she’d have my dream phone…) She followed me out of the store, unnecessarily introduced herself, and went into a shpiel about how awful she felt. I realized that this was my triumphant moment. My bully was apologizing! Nerds win! But then she asked about the arthritis she caused. Aw..

Annie had been eaten up with guilt and carrying this weight that she had caused someone to become a cripple. She had been praying for me relentlessly for years and, once a year, donates to the Arthritis Foundation. I’m not joking.

I informed her that it is, in fact, impossible to bully someone into having arthritis and that all she did cause me was grief during a hard time. I forgave her and thanked her for the donations because that benefit us cripples more than you know. I gave her an update on my condition and told her what I was doing in my life. She asked if we could be friends and I politely declined. You are, after all, as smart as what you Google.


Not going to proofread this post,



About ohheytay

A girl of mystery and power, whose power is exceeded only by her mystery.

Posted on 03/11/2011, in storytime and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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