Confessions of a Middle School Wannabe

The year is 2014 and I was about to start my first day of middle school with a hundred kids I had never met before. I knew that I should have been scared, petrified even, but the nerves didn’t get to me much. I made friends everywhere I went, so much so, that my mom said I was a natural at it. I didn’t want just any friends though. I wanted popularity. Now that my fresh start had finally arrived, I couldn’t have been more prepared. I put on my best flower crown, grabbed my Bambi backpack, and hit the road.

When I got there, though, I was surprised to see that most kids had already formed their cliques in the neighboring elementary school. Being the odd one out was not the way I wanted to start off my middle school career. Desperate to become one of the pack, I sought out the school’s “it-girl” and made it my mission to befriend her. Or become her. Blonde-haired and blue-eyed, Chloe was the celebrity of the sixth grade. All of the prepubescent boys groveled at her feet and the girls that hated her secretly prayed for a single hello in the hallway. Somehow as the year progressed, my unwavering stubbornness worked out in my favor, and soon Chloe decided I was worthy enough for her attention.

This led to weekly mall trips, sleepovers at her house, and trading secrets like they were classified government information. I was sitting comfortably at the “cool” girl table, only feeling slightly uncomfortable when my so-called ”friends” made fun of another girl for shopping at Goodwill; I hadn’t lost all my morals yet. But, inevitably, my time in sixth-grade stardom would come to an end. The thing about Chloe and her minions was that they could drop you just as quickly as they welcomed you. Just dropping me wasn’t enough for them, they needed a good piece of drama to sink their claws into. The whole group started to bond over how I was annoying and touchy and how they all thought I was a lesbian. When that wasn’t enough for them, they started recording my conversations and screaming at me in the courtyard, introducing me to my first panic attack. When I started to skip school, my mom was prompted to talk to the school director, who then talked to the girls. Everything had become normal again after this, the feud had been put to rest. There should have been a lesson learned here. There should have been a fresh start and a new perspective, but there wasn’t.

I went back to being friends with Chloe, and I became even higher up in her social hierarchy. I told myself that if I was going to survive the tumultuous world of middle school, then I was going to have to play the part. This was around the time when I lost the rest of my morals. When seventh grade came along, I was a complete and utter menace. I was no longer out of place in my friend group, instead Chloe and the rest of the gang were all my very best friends. Our love was built on the hate we had for other people. When one of my friends was annoyed at a girl in our class for helping her with an art project and accidentally coloring outside the lines, I took it upon myself to defend my friend by picking up the Sharpie she used and throwing it across the room at her head. When two of my friends were in a fight, I went behind each of their backs and encouraged the shit they were talking about, swearing to both of them that I was on their side. I knew this wasn’t me, but now I had everything I had always wanted, so why ruin what I fought so hard for? In my mind, everything I did was in an attempt to survive for another year and a half. If middle school was only temporary, then why did it all feel so final?

When you’re fresh into adolescence, nothing else seems to matter except for other people’s opinions of you. The funny look your friend gave you last week, the cute boy in class seeing your trip, the popular kid holding a door open for you. Wanting to fit in is not only about wanting to be a “cool girl,” it’s about self-preservation. When I entered that friend group, life seemed to become easier. People were nicer, invitations were more frequent and the boys suddenly knew my name. But along the way, the pressure to remain in my place in the middle school social hierarchy led to the downfall of the nice girl I once was.

Your MagazineMarch 9, 2023