Closure

I attended Junior High School from 1983 to 1985. At 12 years old, at the start of 7th grade, I was somewhere in the vicinity of 150 pounds, which was already pretty chubby for my 5'1" frame.

But by age 13, when I entered 8th grade in 1984, I was even heavier. At 180 pounds, I'm pretty sure I was the heaviest girl in my class.

Here I am on my 13th birthday -

This is a photo of me from my 1985 Junior High yearbook. I was apparently voted "best personality"? I don't remember this...

As if the size of me didn't cause enough attention and name calling, I also dressed 'weird' as my Mom would say (see above), so I stood out in several ways. Nothing about me was average - not my size or my look or even my thoughts, for that matter. (In 7th grade, I was the only vegetarian or agnostic that I knew of and also the only kid who refused to dissect a frog in science class, causing me a failing grade that quarter).

As an adult, I realize individuality is a great thing; but as a 12 and 13 year old, it wasn't easy to be different. And even though my differences drew a lot of unwanted attention, I didn't have a desire to fit in, so I had no intention of changing my 'weird' look or my opinions to conform.

There was one difference, however, that always bothered me: my weight. I hated being heavy. I hated how I looked. I hated how I felt. I hated what other people said about me. I hated that boys only liked the skinny girls. I hated being made fun of. I hated being fat.

And there was one person in particular who made junior high absolutely miserable for me. It was a kid in my class named Louie.

That's him on the bottom, voted "best sense of humor". I would have begged to differ...

During 7th grade, in social studies, while learning about slavery, we heard the name Harriet Tubman. For some reason, this historical figure inspired Louie to come up with a nickname for me (since, I guess "fat", was getting boring): Tubby.

He called me Tubby every single day. Every day for nearly 2 years. I dreaded seeing him each day just knowing he would make fun of me for being fat (like I wasn't aware of the size of myself and needed him to tell me?). I don't recall ever saying anything back to him, or attempting to defend myself in any way. I just wanted the teasing to stop. But it never did. And it made junior high a nightmare. I can still remember the anxiety I would feel just knowing I would have to go to school and endure his torments day after day.

I despised him so much and what he put me through every day. It felt like there was no end in sight to the verbal abuse. But after I graduated 8th grade in 1985 and went to a different high school than him, his bullying was over. I was so relieved to no longer have to see him again.

But I carried a lot of hurt and anger with me. I was not over what he did to me. Not by a long shot.

Years went by and he faded from memory. I'd occasionally catch "confront your school bully" topics on talk shows and immediately think of him, and how mad I still was at him, because I was still not over it. 

And then one evening in November 2004, in front of CBGB, of all places, who should I run into but Louie.

Note: this is not Louie, but this photo was taken the day I ran into him at CBGB at the Agnostic Front show, just so you know what I looked like at the time. I'm with a woman I know named Sandy-

I don't know how he recognized me but he did. And I don't know why he felt it was appropriate to talk to me, nearly 20 years later, but he did. It was him. My junior high bully. Standing here in front of me as an adult.

What I avoided saying to him in the 80's I made up for in the 21st century (you can read a short blog about the encounter here). There were a few expletives and I told him how he had made my junior high experience hell. His response: "I wasn't that bad, was I?"

Wasn't that bad? Wasn't that bad?! Are you kidding? YES, you were that bad!

I don't know how he remembered me without remembering how he tortured me every day with his hurtful words. But here he was, in front of me, telling me I looked good. I found this especially ironic because I weighed about 180 at the time - the same weight I was in 8th grade. Of course my look had changed, but I was the same size as 13 year old "Tubby" me.

Though we didn't speak long and I probably didn't say half of what I wanted to say, I was rattled by the encounter.

And I realized, 2 decades later, I was still not over it.

Again I did not see Louie for years - until about a year ago, when I was about 145 pounds...

As I was walking to work one day, someone in a truck said hello to me. It was him (turns out he works for the phone company). This time when I saw him, even though it was unexpected, I was infinitely calmer than when I ran into him at CBs. I didn't bring up junior high or anything - I just exchanged pleasantries with him. Interestingly enough he did not comment on my size or look, even though I knew I looked amazing. I went about my day, amused. But certainly not rattled.

Maybe I was over it?

Cut to a few days ago, when I went out for my lunchtime run -

As I was running, I heard someone yell "Sheryl!" from a moving vehicle. I kept running but looked over to see who it was. It was the familiar phone company truck driving by, with Louie hanging out the window, smiling and waving to me.

"Louie. I can't believe it's Louie, seeing me out here running. We were in the same gym class for 2 years and I bet he never saw me run that entire time!" I thought to myself.

I smiled, I waved back. And I laughed.

And I realized: You know what? I'm over it.