Life changes so drastically. I never would have see myself the way I am now. I mean, high school Crystal would have laughed and thought I was some hippy dippy loser. However, its current me, looking back and shaking my head in disapproval.
I guess its time to come clean. This is my side of the story, my feelings, my confessions. Why am I writing all this at 4:30am? Well…. because I feel like I owe it to myself (and those that I love) to clear the air.
Recently, I started a relationship with someone who was a complete stranger to me. We’ll call him… M. M and I never really knew each other in high school. Or… thats what I thought. The truth is, I didn’t know him… however, he’d heard more than enough rumors about me; he just didn’t lead me to believe he had heard those terrible things. The first time I figured it out, I cried. I cried uncontrollably. I cried because I didn’t think that things in high school mattered. I knew M wouldn’t start this relationship based off of rumors, but it stung, a lot.
After taking some time to really think things through, I realized, no. I’m not a perfect person. I’ve had my share of rocky pasts, but who hasn’t? I don’t care anymore. This is my side of the story. In no way could I ever justify everything I did, but this does offer some insight into my mind.
Before I moved to California, I was a nobody. Well no. I was an overachieving nobody; sports, student council, honors classes, all that jazz. But I never felt like anyone liked me.
I recall my sweet sixteen. I invited all my friends. My parents put a ton of time and effort into letting me have this party and I was so excited. A lot of people showed up, but things were off. Apparently, J and C came to my party… drunk. I didn’t even know. I feel so foolish and pathetic looking back on it now. Like…. why did I have this desperate need to be accepted by others? I felt used and dirty.
I honestly don’t recall how I behaved back then, but I knew I was desperate to fit in. I still remember that huge pathetic fight with my so-called “friends” It was a lot of he said, she said and a lot of blame being thrown around. I don’t think I even remember how it all started, but I knew it sucked. I remember my “best friend” sending me such long and hateful messages about how nobody liked me and how I was a terrible friend. Maybe I was. I really don’t know. But, I did spiral down this long tunnel of depression and need for approval. It didn’t help that the boy I liked basically stopped texting me when I moved to Palo Alto.
The first couple weeks, I avoided people. Simply because I was too down on myself to think that other people would want to spend time with me. I spent the majority of my lunches alone, in front of the library, just wishing the last bell would ring and I could leave and be alone.
Throughout time, I heard these rumors. That I was such a party girl. How I drank so much. Honestly, I had my first drink at the age of 16. I was so fed up with people’s ideas of me that I just said “fuck it, if they’re gonna think that, then thats what I’ll do” (Kind of a Emma Stone moment in Easy A)
I drank every weekend. Three days in a row. I was never CRAZY out of control, but I did some things I wish I could take back. I spent most of the summer bs-ing my college prep classes to sneak out and drink. I’m sure the things I did only solidified those rumors people heard.
In the midst of my debauchery, I was actually at my loneliest. Although I was constantly surrounded by people, I was terribly alone. Slowly, that loneliness manifested into a monster. I was craving attention. I just wanted to notice. And at that time, I realized, hey, boys will give me attention.
That was when I sunk to an all time low. I put all things aside to find someone, just that ONE person, who would care about me. I chased them, guy after guy. Each time, deeply disappointed when I realized I was nothing more to him than a fun time. I craved love and compassion, and instead I was seen as nothing more than “Friends with benefits.” I was easy to get, and thus, easy to forget. With each guy, my self esteem and self respect dropped a little more.
Again, the rumor mill started. Probably the most common thing I heard was how many guys I slept with. I never had sex with anyone in high school. I could barely look myself in the mirror, how could I let anyone else see me in such a vulnerable state?
Anyway, yes, some rumors are partially true. I drank and tried to match myself with an identity. I am not proud of the person I used to be. Not in the least. I was a sad and pathetic child. I’m pretty sure you psych majors out there could pinpoint my issues, but I’ve already got a pretty good idea.
By the time senior year rolled around, I had still not straightened out. Instead, I fell for him. We’ll call him A. I fell for A because well… I can’t remember. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase. How he was kind of “taken” at the time. Maybe I was just running away from the fact that I didn’t know what I wanted to do after graduation. It was an escape from having to face the truth; my terrible grades and failing social life. So I clung onto him.
Months later, I was even deeper in a grave I was digging for myself. I had cut more classes than I attended. My grades were mostly F’s and I didn’t know what to do. I confided in him that I loved him. Oh young love. How naive I was. He laughed and I ran again from the things that hurt me most.
Fortunately, I turned to art. I would spend hours in the studio. Painting, drawing, learning; an escape.
The day I got my acceptance letters, I was overjoyed. Otis, Parsons, CCA and Pratt! Each with varying scholarships and bright futures. In another desperate attempt to flee from my fears, I trekked out to Brooklyn, NY. As far as I could get from Palo Alto. I cut off practically all ties (with a few exceptions) and began my new life as an art student.
From that point on, I started to realize I needed to change.
I experimented and began to figure out who I was and what made me happy.
To this day, I feel like I still don’t know exactly who I am, but I know I am happy. To be happy, I have to love myself enough to learn from the past and not let it anchor me down. I have to love myself enough to not be scared of making mistakes. In order for me to love anyone else and for anyone else to love me, I have to love myself; flaws and all.
Honestly, I’m not scared of my past, nor am I ashamed. I just don’t want my past actions to hurt the person I love the most. I don’t want the rumors from 4 years ago, to be a crack in the foundation of our relationship now. I admit to my muddy past and my flawed ways. Some people’s dirty laundry have a way of staying hidden, whereas mine were pretty much hung out to dry. Nothing I do now will ever change the past. Its already gone. But I can grow and mature. I will never let my fears control me, nor will I let self hate lead my life. I will do everything I can to be a better person and I will fight for us non-stop.
I love you so much my hunky nugget. This was not only for me, but for us as well. Cheers~
Love always. Yijubear