Kelly KleinToday I want to tell a funny story about my youth.
Picture it. Timberlea, Nova Scotia. 1994. I was in grade nine, in junior high. I wasn’t popular, but everyone seemed to know who I was. My class size was small – twelve people – because we were in French immersion.
In my free time in class and at lunch I was always writing in my journal. I dramatized the events in my life and it read more like a novel. I made the mistake of sharing it with a few of my classmates. I had changed the names, but everyone pretty much knew who was who. I said that it was my memoir and that I was going to publish it someday. I remember promising signed copies to anyone who asked for one.
At the time, I had the biggest crush on a guy in my class. Of course, he figured more prominently in my “story” as time went on and more people read it. Rumours started to circulate that the story was only about him, causing me great embarrassment. I kept telling everyone that it was about ME and that everyone I knew and interacted with was in it.
So in a fit of despair and embarrassment, I took the pages out of my binder, went outside, and took a match to my work. There, alone, I watched my words go up in smoke, never to be read again.
The interest in my journal didn’t wane right away. People asked to read the latest pages but I had to tell them I set it on fire.
I have been keeping a personal journal since I was in Grade 6. Grade 7-9 no longer exist…except for bits and pieces I tried to rewrite in high school, and an extensive entry about the Grade 9 trip to Quebec. I regret it because my journal is my prized possession. I still write in it, and I am in my 40s! And I still have all of it…except for junior high. Actually, about 30+ years!
Looking back, I think I only did that to show off – to get attention. I also learned since then not to care what other people think. I knew it was about me, and not that guy (whom I haven’t seen in almost two decades and have moved on from that crush before high school)…knowing it myself should have been enough.
I will publish my memoir down the road. It will be a lot different and focus on me and my life. All the names and defining characteristics will be changed…only those who remember living through certain events will know who I’m referring to. I want it to focus on the obstacles and bullying I had to overcome to get to where I am today.
Everyone has a past kept hidden deep within the recesses of their minds. It makes us who we are. Sometimes, years later, we can laugh over things that were a problem years ago.
What is a funny story from your youth? Share with me in the comments! I’d love to hear from you!
May your life be passionate!
