I Used to Be a Nice Girl

Now I scare people, and it’s freaking awesome

Moi, no longer feeling awkward. Photo property of Author.

To say I was an awkward child would be a severe understatement. I covered my mouth when I spoke because of my bucked teeth. I loathed getting my picture taken. Picture day at school might as well have been a day of waterboarding in a dank prison cell.

My school photos show a tense girl with her lips glued together, large sad eyes, under a unibrow that had me closer to Herman Munster than the sweet little girl that I was.

I was a nice girl. Smart and thoughtful. I knew how to make people feel good about themselves.

My codependent skills came early. They had to.

But I don’t want to just blame co-dependence and the obvious causes of that trait. I was innately kind to my fellow man. I knew what it was to be hurt, to be bullied, and I never wanted to inflict that kind of suffering on any being.

I was nice! And funny and fairly interesting. There was so much inside me as a child, but had no clue how to get out — how to release myself out of my body and mind. I was driven, but by the time my ambition rose to the surface, it was quiet. I just needed to get by.

I was clear on what I wanted and where I saw myself as an adult. The problem was there was zero indication that I would ever…