Tuesday, September 1, 2015
I was in middle school when I finally realized I had no skills. Kickball was what showed me just how different I was.
Kids on the bus talking about how they played outside after school. Walked to the corner store together. Played wall ball, jumped in the water from fire hydrant on hot days. Spent time playing together.
Well there was none of that for me. Go home stay in the house. Clean the house and try to stay out of her way. The cleaning was to look busy so if she was in a bad mood maybe I would get brownie points for doing my chores instead of in trouble for simply being alive.
Kickball was a fun sport I enjoyed playing in gym. Recesses would come and sometimes the kids would play. There were two teams and two team captains. Kids didn’t like me enough to make me team Captain and because I couldn’t kick the ball far and high no one picked me…if they picked me … I was last or next to…and then they picked me because they needed to make the teams even in players.
All the other kids had some skills because they had grown up playing this in their neighbor hoods. My experience wasn’t that and basically my skill was to punt the ball which often resulted in me being out. Not something anyone wanted from a teammate.
It hurt to not be picked. When they didn’t pick me? And it was often … I’d go to the bathroom and stand in the stall and cry…alone.
My mother was right I had nothing that anyone wanted! That feeling still follows me today. I don’t fit in.