At this stage in my life, I’ve come to realize that I’m not exactly everyone’s favorite person. Sarcasm is practically my second language, and I might drop a few more swear words than some deem appropriate for a lady.
Recently, an old acquaintance labeled me as “always having a chip on my shoulder.” While it’s tough to write a personal essay defending myself when I usually vent my frustrations through these words, why not embrace that chip? Let’s have a good ol’ cathartic session and air out some grievances. Honestly, I’ve got years’ worth of frustration bottled up, and it’s high time to let it out, folks!
Let the Chips Fall Where They May
In third grade, there was a girl—let’s call her Lily. I had just relocated to Ohio from Virginia mid-year, and instead of welcoming me, Lily chose to spread rumors. Yep, third-grade drama: “I’m just sooo cool, and you’re just envious of my adorable southern accent!”
Not to mention my third-grade teacher, who made me rewrite an entire autobiography because her instructions weren’t clear enough for a nine-year-old. I cried for hours over that assignment.
Then, there was another incident in third grade where a kid mocked me for not having cash for ice cream at lunch.
Fast forward to fourth grade—the Beanie Babies craze had taken over. Lily and her friends flaunted their collections, while I had a measly ten. Sure, I felt a bit jealous, but their bragging was over the top. I hope they’re still waiting for those toys to appreciate in value!
By fifth grade, all the popular girls were getting their nails done every month, and I just wanted to fit in.
And let’s not forget my fifth-grade teacher. I wasn’t behind on my reading because I was lazy; it was because you assigned me books from 1877!
In sixth grade, I’ll always remember the girls giggling on the other side of the door during my first “real” kiss.
Middle school was a nightmare, especially with the seating arrangement on the bus. Who decided that seventh graders had to sit in the front while eighth graders lounged in the back?
High school? Let’s unpack that. The jocks were the worst. There was one who mercilessly bullied a gay kid until he brought a gun to school. Or the one who hit my boyfriend’s car and then tried to start a fight. Yeah, I’m still harboring some bad feelings from those years.
There was even a time when my former best friend tried to pick a fight with me in the hallway. Seriously, we could have easily talked it out!
And don’t get me started on my high school guidance counselor, who insisted I pick a vocational path or risk falling behind in college. I wasted two years on a graphic design course I despised, only to major in something entirely different in college.
“I’ve Got a Lot of Problems With You People, and Now You’re Gonna Hear About It”
Who needs a special holiday to air grievances?
- To the jerk who complained when I put onions on your sandwich—seriously, it was eight years ago; just pick them off!
- The lady who corrected me back in 2009 while I was working as a hostess—complaining to my manager about my phrasing was a bit much.
- The stylist who convinced me to get bangs in 2010—let’s just say you probably still work at a discount salon for a reason.
- The saleswoman at Plato’s Closet—who the hell are you to judge my vintage Aeropostale jeans?
- And honestly, to the maternity store saleswoman—stop pushing pricey shirts and bras on me. If I’m pregnant, I’m already stressed about finances!
It’s clear I might be holding onto a few grudges after all. Who knew?
Maybe it’s my acquaintance who pointed out that chip on my shoulder who has the answer.
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In summary, embracing that chip on my shoulder might just be the catharsis I needed. It’s time to acknowledge the grievances of the past and move forward with a little less baggage.