I've never been one of the "popular" people, rarely garnering an invitation as a child to a birthday party. I was shunned for most of my school life, hardly ever making an appearance at school dances, and if I did, usually alone. I'm not ugly and I'm not antisocial - but I'm not the 'average' girl. I never have been.
What does this mean?
I don't dress the way other people dress. I have my own sense of fashion, mostly contrived of multiple styles, including those of Audrey Hepburn, Shirley Manson and the country life. It's a very strange combination, I admit. But it's MY style. Too often today we see people who dress exactly like some star or celebrity. The masses line up to purchase not just A little black dress, but THE little black dress with gray piping that was seen on Ashley Tisdale last week, or whomever they're following these days.
I don't do the things other people do. I was born an old soul. I watch old 1940's films when I'm feeling low for a pick-me-up. I don't drink to excess and I never really have been into that sort of thing. In fact, I can't stand being around drunk people. I don't do drugs of ANY sort and don't tolerate those who do. Peer pressure doesn't exist to me.
I don't watch or say or think what other people seem to think everyone should. I'm my own person. In the end, this means I'm very much alone.
I have VERY few friends, and the list diminishes exponentially as I write this, since I seclude myself away from the heartbreak and torment I feel when I'm around a bunch of people who couldn't give two shakes for me. I thought I had friends, and maybe I still do (some of them) but when so, so, so many have just faded away into their own lives, forgetting I even exist, or that I once thought of them as my BEST friend, it becomes increasingly difficult to imagine a time when I had so many friends I couldn't see them all in a month if I tried.
I've been very much alone for a very long time, but since my best friends have become nothing more than the occasional acquaintance these days, there are fewer people to talk to. Fewer hugs in my world. Fewer messages of kindness. Fewer human interactions.
There's one person in my world I see regularly. One. There's no "girls night out" for me. There's no "salon day" or a "let's go for a walk in the park today" friends. There's no "lets hang out a the beach" anymore. There's not even a "wanna grab lunch" girl time for me. There's one person in my life. ONE. The rest of the world moved on without me. The rest of the world doesn't need me. The rest of the world forgot I exist.
I was recently told I was remarkable to have lived through what I've gone through and keep smiling. Well, here's a surprise. It's not all smiles. It's sadness and depression and avoidance and loneliness and doubt and a pathetic freaking mess. That's who I am when the door is closed and I'm the only one home. That's the REAL me. That's the "me" that gave up. That's the "Me" nobody gets to see. That's the forgotten girl.
That's what I have become. The Forgotten Girl.