I blame my mother for that mentality for she drummed it into us all. If I spoke the usual refrain," but all my friends are … her response was always." if your friend stuck her hand in the fire- would you do it too?" Well the answer to that was no, and when you said so, mum would smile and say," of course not love, you have your own mind. You're not a lemming; don't be afraid to be different." I was left feeling proud of myself for being 'different', but oh God, I still wanted that denim jacket, or those Adidas trainers, or to stay out for that extra half an hour; or the myriad of other 'things' that would have enabled me to fit in. Money was always tight when I was at school. With four kids to buy for - I feel mum used the lemming story no us, just so she wouldn't have to say "I can't afford it." At school, every deficit, both real and imagined between you and the 'in crowd' made you insecure. It could be your haircut, shoes or even just the number of pleats our gym skirt had. (Mine had none.) Plain skirts were cheaper.
Positive Body Image, or lack of it in my case, was a major problem. I went through school convinced that I was fat and ugly. Fat!? I was only 81/2 stones! I would kill to be that weight again - and as for my other two attributes? My boobs started growing in p.6. By p.7, I was into my first bra- and didn't the bra-less school bully love me! By third year, my chest rivaled Sam Foxes! My bust was a shapely 34DD; couple that to a 24" waist and 35"hips, I must have had a figure to die for. So what was the problem? Well, unfortunately the girls I wanted to be like were more akin to Kate Moss than Sammy Fox; you know the type, tall and thin with no discernable bust or hips. I felt like a freak; I walked around school for the whole five years with my shoulders rounded, sucking in my non-existent stomach!
I remember at the start of second year, being bought knee-high white socks. They were hand-picked by myself, and had a very elegant criss- cross diamond pattern down one side. On the second week of wearing them, the elastic on one sock broke, and the stupid thing would gradually slide down my leg as I walked. I remember being absolutely mortified. Everyone else's socks stayed up, and I was constantly hauling at mine. So I badgered my mum to buy new ones. She did- three weeks of mortification later; within days of proudly wearing my new 'stay ups', an 'in girl' decided it would be cool to wear your socks bunched around your ankles - and did my mum allow me to bunch up my new socks? Like hell she did. I was the only girl in my class to wear them knee-high for weeks!
I think older generations must look back on their school days through the milky glaze of cataracts, when they say that school days were the happiest. I would buy into that sentimentality about primary school, but I'm still young enough to remember the insecurities, angst and loneliness of secondary school, fuelled as they were by the raging hormones of puberty, and the overwhelming need to conform. Adolescence and school aren't any less stressful of difficult than adulthood. Your perception of life, and how you relate to it, grows as you so -as does your ability to prioritise difficulties and problems. A teenager's world is smaller than an adult; and they play the major role within it. Adults see the bigger picture, and realise that they are, unreality a very small cog.
So, would I go back to my school days? If I could return with the knowledge and life experiences I have now, simply to enjoy the freedom of school; the answer would be yes! - Send me now. But to return as I was then, with all the insecurities, self-doubt and trauma that puberty, adolescence and school invariably bring? Not in a million years!
