When I was in Junior High, I was about as uncool as an adolescent could get. (Now I must interject here, and tell you that my dad had his his own unique way of describing things. Let's just say he had a way with adjectives, and I think that here he would have used the word bASS-ackwards.) Anyway, one of my many problems; at 5'9" the boys were knee-high to me, along with some of the girls, and even a few teachers. Because of my long legs, pants were difficult to find. When I did find some that went past my ankles, my mom would just buy two of the exact same style, right off the bat. End of looking. My mom worked full-time as a waitress to help my dad make ends meet-- all while raising three daughters. There was only one thing that she had even less of than money, and that was time.
So, to start off the 8th grade, my school wardrobe consisted of the two pair of jeans, and several tops. I never even thought to complain about anything we had, or didn't have, while growing up. I would wear one pair one day, and the other pair the next, switching every other day. But one day, a boy came up to me, and asked me why I wore the same pair of jeans to school EVERY-SINGLE-DAY! I was mortified. My lack of wardrobe had never bothered me before, but suddenly I felt very exposed. Up to that point, I wasn't aware of the have's and the have not's, nor the difference it made. Isn't that weird? It was an Ah-ha moment, and at the time I didn't even realize that I had any pride, until someone had to go and step on it.
The good thing about that was, I was so unaffected, and blissfully unaware, up until THAT moment. Now a days kids are caught up in the drama of trying to fit in, being cool and popular, as early as the first grade--possibly even kindergarten!
What a dork I must have been. But my eyes had been opened, and there was no going back--EVER.
It was just the beginning....
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