Our bus pulled up to Roosevelt Middle School and we were all anxiously awaiting our turn to get off the bus.
"Man this school is super fly," I thought to myself as I approached the large double doors that were being held open by two 8th graders. First we took a tour past the lockers. The staff member giving the tour explained the lockers and the locker fees and how to get into them each time we changed classes between periods. That was exciting to me because....lockers!!!
Then we walked into the auditorium where we got to see a pep rally. And every student in the school looked AWESOME and huge.
"I'm not going to fit in this school," I surmised. I felt small, tiny, infantile and NOT awesome surrounded by all these kids.
I watched the pep rally with awe as the girls in their immodest dress danced around cheering for the home team, and then they introduced the dance squad, more immodestly dressed than the cheer team, and they wore sparkly leotards that were green and black and tutus that were sheer and super short. They danced around to pop music with good rhythm and fun funky moves that I knew right away,my uncoordinated self could not master those moves.
I went home feeling defeated and tired. Field trips, man. Exhausting.
Fast forward to the following school year when I entered middle school in the 6th grade.
Now nobody seemed as large as they had at my visit to Roosevelt. They seemed, my age, and my size. Because they were! I received my schedule and my locker and I was pumped to be a middle schooler.
Now nobody seemed as large as they had at my visit to Roosevelt. They seemed, my age, and my size. Because they were! I received my schedule and my locker and I was pumped to be a middle schooler.
But I soon learned that I wouldn't fit in with anyone. I wasn't popular, I wasn't one of the cool kids. I didn't have the cool gear, I wasn't pretty and I couldn't dance.
And everyone figured that out soon. I walked quietly, through the halls, hoping to be unseen and avoided. Even with that, people noticed me. People noticed me because the less confident you are in school, the less people like you I guess. I tried to hide in the crowds but the girls saw me and shouldered me into the lockers so hard I hurt my shoulder.
I tried to be good and do good deeds and stay out of people's way but they didn't like me. In gym class the boys called me phantom legs, the girls called me anorexic. I hated dressing out. In lunch I sat against a tree away from everyone else because I was a freak.
Then, I was too well behaved to get lunch detention. I prayed for lunch detention because there was no way for me to get it on my own. I was too chicken to actually get lunch detention. If you don't know, lunch detention is when you get in trouble during class so the teacher writes you up and you have to stay in the class during lunch so you eat in class. I would wish I could be brave enough to be BAD enough to have to sit in class while everyone else got recess. Because I didn't want to be a burden to others by being in their presence. If they couldn't see me they couldn't hate me....that's how my mind worked because I was bullied everyday and I didn't have the graces a Catholic can get because I wasn't Catholic. I didn't know about virtues, I didn't know about offering it up, and I didn't know about the joy of suffering. I was deprived of being raised Catholic so I didn't have the tools to cope with "unfairness"
I was bullied all my middle school years without ever getting revenge or trying to fight back. Then one day it was time to go to high school. And nobody asked me to dances or sent me carnations during Valentines. The other girls got cards and carnations that the school sold to the boys and I got laughed at because I was empty handed. Nobody accompanied me to a dance so I stayed home. I actually didn't even want any girls to ask me to be there for them as a friend because I didn't want to have to talk to people. I became very anti social because I was afraid of people. People were hurtful and shoved me into lockers, people pushed me and beat me up in the bathroom so I wasn't going to go where all the people were.
After school one time I went home at 14 and watched a movie called "The Craft" about witchcraft. And I took it a step forward and got involved in Wicca. I wanted to change me, though, not them. I didn't want to put a curse on anyone or get even. I just wanted to be pretty, witty, wise, cute, fun, popular. I wanted to be liked and had I had my Catholic faith I wouldn't have cared to be liked or adored. I would have set my eyes on Heaven. I wouldn't have worried about my physical aspects. I would have focused on getting my soul to Heaven.
I bought candles with my allowance. I looked all kinds of stuff up. I even wanted a Wicca bible. I THINK my uncle ended up sending me a Wicca bible and my mom's friend who was 35 when I was 15, gave me a book of spells and an introduction to Wicca.
I was so enthralled, so wrapped up in it that by the time I was 16 I practiced everyday, seeking out other witches and trying to join a coven.
Guess what? Wicca didn't change my life for the best. It didn't make me more beautiful, it didn't give me anything but problems.
I had many spiritual problems and "mental" issues because of Wicca. If I could go back I wouldn't have done one spell ever or even watched witchcraft movies. Wicca is dangerous. Read part 2 for more information.
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