THE NIGHTMARISH GORGEOUS TWITS

I am not a girl anymore.  I know I am long past that part of my life.  It is good though, to go back and visit her.  My best friend helps me to stay in contact with her.  I think part of why I enjoy his company is his youth…I lost mine…so I borrow his.  I love to go out and dance, just forget about the world and enjoy myself.  This isn’t an easy thing for a person like me to do.  Most of the time the night goes amazingly well, despite one or two moments where I have to gain control over my anxiety, and I go home happy and tired.  This weekend was a different story.  I gave my emotional control away to a pack of insensitive twits.  Be it they were all very gorgeous twits…but twits all the same.

I took a break from dancing and slipped away un-noticed to the woman’s restroom.  Once I had settled into a stall a gaggle of girls walked in laughing.  I don’t think any of them actually used the restroom so it must have been time for re-establishing their lipstick’s presence.  “OH MY GAWD….Can you believe all the old bitches in this place trying to look all cute?”  Laughter….a round of agreement.  “And did you see all the grandmas getting off the party bus in sparkly shoes and disco tops?”  I should have stayed in the stall but the conversation didn’t apply to me…right?  I walk out of the stall to wash my hands as the small group of gorgeous twits stopped laughing.  After a few awkward seconds they opened the door to leave while breaking out it snickers.  I turned around to grab a towel and caught my reflection in the full length bathroom mirror.  I was horrified.  I was the grandma in sparkly shoes (literally silver glitter heels) and a flowing purple shirt that would be amazing in disco lights.

I left the bathroom deflated, my self-confidence shattered.  If I hadn’t left my money and ID with my friends I would have driven myself home without a goodbye. I let some schoolyard girls bully me and they didn’t even know it.  I was twice their age and yet I managed to let myself get captured by a careless mob of words.   I told my friends’ goodbye, my feet hurt, I was tired…blah blah blah.  They asked me to stay… I said no.  My best friend asked me to stay, asked me to text when I got to the car. This feeling I had, of worthlessness, it felt lonely.  I then let my mind convince me none of my friends cared enough to walk me to my car? Why? I am not worth………

Things have happened and I lived through them.  Some traumatic experiences, some just painful but they all taught me how to be resilient, how to re-cover, re-group, and any other re- that needed to happen.  I am an expert at re-building myself.  I learned the fewer friends I had the fewer casualties I would need to worry about when a re-building became necessary.

I have forgotten a few things over the last couple of years.  Either I am short on building materials or I am too old to do the heavy lifting necessary to re-create.  I have been the subject of hateful speech before…I used to be heavy.  I have been the victim of mean girl gossip.  I was not raised to be a weak person.  I have friends now, friends I care about, I can’t re-build like I used to….I have tried.  When I feel worthless I let accusations run wild in my head, “Why would anyone continue to want to know me?”  I find support for my theory based on projected assumptions.  My inclination is to jump overboard to save them the trouble of pretending.  I am grateful to my husband, my daughter, and my closest friends.  They truly accept the journey I am on.  And even though I don’t deserve it I have a best friend who through it all keeps cheering me on.

In the light of day, when the emotion melts away, and logic steps in I start realizing the truth.  Those girls were not twits they were just young.  I have a young daughter who will be their age before I can blink.  Someday they will be my age and I hope they enjoy life to the fullest without giving credence to the judging eyes of youth.

Advertisements

27 thoughts on “THE NIGHTMARISH GORGEOUS TWITS

  1. I know, right? I personally think you’re hideous, awkward and stupid, and your posts suck. I only hang around here for the WordPress miles. 😉

    The best defense is a good offense. Surely each of them had one fashion mistake. Drop a “yeah, I can see why your shoes aren’t sparkly… I wouldn’t want to draw attention to them either. Well, gotta dance. Some of us only use the bathroom to pee. See ya, Fonzie. Ayyyyyyyyyyyy -cup.”

    Like

  2. Wouldn’t let it get you down. If it wasn’t your age, it would be your hair, lipstick, eye color, the way you talk, the way you walk, something else, anything else.

    Teenagers both male and female bitch about everything, it’s how teenagers bond because they think they are going to live forever, one of evolution’s little jokes!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh sure, use your third post of the day to flash killer gams. So unfair.

    Girls are girls, and as you recall, so unsure of themselves that they resort to talk like that to try and feel like they are on track to being someone, They will learn, and when they do, instead of snickering, they will shake your hand because you inspire.

    Like

  4. Oh my I’ve had similar experience. Although I turned 44 this year I feel much younger. When someone refers to me as old I have to double check…am I the person they are referring to? You are a gorgeous woman. I wouldn’t trade where I am now with one night of being in my early 20’s. You have something those girls don’t: invaluable experience. And that’s something that only comes with time.

    Like

  5. Pingback: CELEBRATE….JUST DUET | hastywords

  6. Pingback: A TORNADO IN THE CLOUDS | hastywords

  7. “I learned the fewer friends I had the fewer casualties I would need to worry about when a re-building became necessary.”

    Completely with you on this.
    Cheers,
    Lance

    Like

  8. Pingback: TABLOID DEMONS | hastywords

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s