[In a past post, I said that I would share a story or two about a few negative experiences that I ended up being grateful for. This incident is the first one that came to mind.]

Alone is even lonelier when you are purposely ghosted by your supposed “friends”.

It was the very first day of the 6th grade and I was happy to get back into a school year even though things would feel different without Athena. Because of her father’s job, Athena’s family had moved overseas so my circle of three school friends would become a party of two – Amy and Theresa.

Amy and Theresa were usually nice enough girls but they spent most of their time badtalking who they had knicknamed the “Popular Ones” every chance they got.

It was clear that Amy and Theresa were extremely jealous of the Popular Ones while Athena and I couldn’t care less. We refused to pile on and stayed quiet when their ranting started.

The Popular Ones in our grade had never done anything to me so why would I agree with their jealous obsession? I knew that I could never be popular so there was no need to even be bothered when I basically felt invisible.

On that first day back, I was happy to get back into the swing of things. As soon as I spotted Theresa and Amy in the school yard, I ran up to them to ask how they had enjoyed their summer. Instead of smiles, I was greeted with simultaneous snickers and looks of disgust. Then, Theresa and Amy simply turned their backs on me and walked away laughing.

Just like that and out of the blue, I was persona non grata. Standing alone by myself in that school yard, I didn’t know why.

Throughout the entire morning, I found myself staring at them, almost fixated on the two of them since we sat in close proximity.

I hadn’t even seen them over the summer so I knew that I hadn’t done anything to make them mad enough to dismiss me.

But as the morning dragged on, my mind spun with questions…

With Athena gone, had they taken the opportunity to dump me since the power dynamic had shifted (in their favor) from two and two to two against one?

Was it because my immigrant parents didn’t allow me to do anything outside of school, like hang out at the mall or at their houses?

Or did they no longer want the only Black girl in the school in their entourage?

Even in the 6th grade, that is how my mind worked and by the time recess hit, I figured that my “ousting” was likely a combination of all of the above. It couldn’t have been anything else.

By recess, I dillydallied inside the building long enough to not find myself outside but my anxiety quickly began to creep to the surface.

What was I going to do at lunchtime in the cafeteria?

Sit by myself like a loser with the risk that Amy and Theresa would sit at a table close enough to laugh, snicker and purposely make me feel uncomfortable?

With lunch time approaching, I had no clue what to do…

[To be continued…]