Peer pressure is something. You go from one version you loved to wishing to be someone else. The whole comparison game is just crazy. It is insane! Very easy to dismiss our person in favour of that which we think is much “cooler”. I think (I stand to be corrected) that every human being has had at least one of these moments.
Photo by Rebecca Zaal
Over here, where I grew up, I did not have much competition when it came to academics (the scale on which your coolness is decided). If you are not the top of your class, you are not worth mingling with. At least, where I grew up was how it was. My teachers’ loved and expected nothing but top grades from me every term. My neighbours were no longer expecting anything lesser. In fact, I was excessively smart for my age. Mom received offers of scholarships and class promotions because I was just “too brilliant to be anywhere less”. Mom turned down the class promotions and said yes to the scholarships with good reason.
As I grew though, I began to meet competition. I met people way smarter and tough as nails when it came to topping the class. Interestingly, I made friends with them and we became great study partners. We would help our weaknesses and provide assistance where we can for each other. It was quite a symbiotic relationship.
However, years passed on and I relaxed, more like I lost interest in everything, even school. I was depressed without even knowing it. I indulged in things I would not normally do and to seem cool, I went out of my way to belong.
I was invited to this thing and I wanted to say no. Somehow, these girls talked me into going even if parties would be the last place you would see me. I am not into that scene. However, I just made friends with these girls and I really wanted them to like me (lol. Yeah, I had some kind of dependency problem). They assured me that I would have fun and perhaps meet some ‘rich kids’ and make connections. Whoops. Silly me. I had nothing else doing and this would be a win-win. So, I went. Dressed in the tightest leggings and an off-shoulder crop top courtesy of the girls. My outfits were too churchy they said.
Photo by Maurício Mascaro from Pexels
The scene was chaos when we arrived. That is what it looked like to me. Loud music, bodies gyrating and just young people going mad! I immediately lost whatever balls I had and wanted to bail but they gave me that look that said I was a disappointment. It made my stomach churn and I just sucked it up and stayed. They gave me a red cup filled with Vodka. I retched internally but emptied the entire content into my knotted stomach while they cheered me on. Even then, I said no to the weed and molly they tried to slip me even when I felt the effect of the alcohol in my system. I was still sane even in my insanity.
Then it got too much. I went from vodka to some fruity punch and something else I cannot remember. I remember feeling like shit. I could not control my movements or thoughts. I could not process anything. I remember being lifted by someone and dragged to what I think was a storeroom. I honestly do not remember much but I remember the feeling of being helpless and not being able to fight.
That is when a girl entered and went raving mad, making a scene that seemed to register in my brain despite my state. A friend of the girls took me home and I can still remember the abject look of horror on my mom’s face, then the disappointment the next morning. It was a shitty feeling.
After that day, and the fear I felt from having some unknown person almost having his way with me, I withdrew more into my shell. Things took a turn for the worst. Nevertheless, that was good I guess, because in the end, I began to work on myself.
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