I was beat up by a kid named Rusty

Here we are.

You and I.

I can basically feel your hot breath on my forehead.

Now, before this turns into another porno  and I make a trajillion dollars, I will just straight up say, I have no idea why you are here. I am not famous, trendy, a hipster, or fashionable in any way, shape or form. So why are you still here? Maybe you are one of my childhood friends, come to see how stale my life is. Are you one of my Facebook friends that I don't even know, but your name sounded kind of familiar, so I accepted your request? Oh wait, you may be a family member, then this all makes sense to you, because you know I am sooooooo painfully awkward.

For you to understand my mind (and you still probably won't) you must go back to the beginning...

I am Whitney. I have been told against my will that I was conceived on a cruise ship some 25 years ago (GROSSSSSSSSS!!). You can ask anyone who knows me, and truly KNOWS me, that I was never that normal. My beautiful mother being pregnant with her first child (bless her heart), was hoping for a little girl, but instead she received a man-girl (and no, I am not a literal man-girl, so this may not be the story of transformation you are looking for). I was just totally and completely a little tomboy. My mom tried her best to make me frilly with little dresses, and get me to wear any kind of pink. I quickly took power from her and started dressing myself in the boys section at clothing stores. Most of my friends were boys. We played with bugs and dirt, you know, "boy stuff". For my 6th birthday, I asked my grandma for a ninja set, solely for the ninja stars it contained. She obliged. I became that cool kid with the ninja stars.

I am there on the right, with the sweet boots

I went to a stereotypical white-trashy elementary school in the trashy part of town. My principal was a farmer, as it should be in a town like mine. We had big bullies who had names like BUTCH and RUSTY. I wouldn't even believe that someone actually named their kid Butch, if I hadn't have actually met the actual Butch (and yes he fit the stereotype). One time a kid in my kindergarten class pushed me on the ground and sat on my face yelling "dumb ass" over and over. (I am still searching for you Boddy, you little turd face!) I was punched in the face in 2nd grade, for no reason that I can remember, resulting in my front tooth chipping, similar to Lloyd Christmas from Dumb and Dumber (I am also searching for you Sam, you big bully! Just kidding, I found her... She was my waitress at I hop once, and that was revenge enough.) Then there was good ol' rusty who insisted on calling me a dyke in 1st grade. 1st grade people! Obviously I didn't really know what that was, but it sounded mean so it made me cry.

I didn't really think about it being "bullying". So much so, I never really told my parents about it, because I didn't know it was a problem. I knew I was just kind of different, I knew that, and to be honest I really liked it. I liked not being a cookie cutter. I am in no way condoning bullying, because those kids were total ASSHOLES. They probably had asshole parents, who taught them to do asshole things, to kids who were different than them. It made me stronger and more confident in who I am today. I know that people who attack other human beings are uncomfortable in their own skin and with their actions.

Third, fourth and fifth graders at this dumpy school were all lumped together in classes. I was obviously the brunt of, again, more teasing from older kids (this is when you make goopy faces and hold up picket signs that say 'stop bullying').  Whatever. I was way cooler than them anyways. I still didn't pay much attention to them because I was too busy choreographing a dance to N'sync songs for me to perform during show and tell every Friday. (Every Friday. Same song, different moves.) I also had some sweet cowboy boots that I wore everywhere (including bed). No one can argue against that.

I later moved from the ghetto (ghetto being lower middle class) part of town to where all the rich kids lived (rich being middle class). I was in this whole [kind of] new environment without people trying to wipe boogers all over my sweatshirt. Now, I am absolutely sure I was called names behind my back by probably those darn popular kids (I called them the Gap hoodie gang, because they all seemed to wear the expensive Gap sweaters that my parents couldn't afford) but it was behind my back, and it was better than being punched in the front. These kids brought cookies to class for their birthday! WHAT THE?!

This is where my life became pretty fun and complicated. I found some awesome friends who are still to this day, some of my bestest friends. The complicated part? They had gotten me addicted to Neopets in 4th grade. Does anyone remember Neopets? Mine always died because I never had enough Neopoints to feed my poor starving Neopets. Off topic.

They didn't punch me, shove my face in the dirt, call me dyke (although I still hadn't grown out of wearing my cousin Jakes hand me down baggy corduroy shorts.) To them, I am forever grateful that they embraced me and invited me to be who I wanted to be. Kind of nice having friends who don't mind if you look like a little man-girl.

Cool hat Shwhit!

Through the years I have developed quite the personality. I have grown into a loud, outspoken adult. I can't help but think, all of my experiences contributed to these traits. If you ask my family, they will straight up tell you that I have an opinion on EVERYTHING. Every single thing.  Sometimes they embrace it, sometimes I MAKE THEM EMBRACE IT (bwahahahaha). I suppose there is not much more to describe me with, other than RADical. I am sure no one stuck through this, so at this point I am inevitably talking to myself, however, if you are out there... Welcome to my mind.