A young highschooler from an all-girls’ Catholic school, troubled, sent me a message asking for advice, ending the letter with, “is it wrong for me to love someone like her?”
“The other L-word.”
“. . . L-lesbian. . . s?”
–Wallace Wells & Scott Pilgrim, from Scott Pilgrim vs. The World
In a bit of a background check, she had currently gone into a relationship with a girl behind her entire strictly Catholic family’s back, and has caused her some grief in school on the gossip circuit–not because she’s dating a girl, but because the one she’s dating was the ex-girlfriend of one of the alpha females in the popular crowd, reigning queen for a certain time of residency, while our little heroine is the new girl in town. She’s had some bad reputation for unintentionally grabbing the attention of everyone else’s boyfriends and girlfriends, as she was a pretty young lady with slender legs, a talented young actress with professional training, a champion in public speaking, a mathlete, a dancer and a wonderfully soulful songstress.
Now she’s being trashed, and when she walks down the hall, the air is filled with hushed giggles, snide side remarks and insensible snickering. Upon going home, the only thing filling up her Twitter’s timeline are blind-item taunts directed her way.
Short story: she’s the pretty girl in town, snatched up the queen’s ex-date. Bitches be angry.
To which, I sent her a note of advice:
I’m telling you, leave them be. They do it because they want you annoyed. Or hurt. And if you are, then they’d have succeeded. Don’t go on twitter. And if you see them, smile and act friendly. It confuses them. Mindfuckery is a stronger attack than juvenile backstabbing. And they’re just threatened. There is a price to pay for being pretty. Popularity is just a social grouping for ugly girls to feel better about themselves.
If I ignore them, won’t they still continue? They’d still hate me, right? What if they spread issues? I’m scared to lose friends–scared to have a bad reputation.
Well, stop thinking about your reputation. Your sense of self-worth and your happiness shouldn’t rely on other people’s thoughts and opinions. Stop caring about gossip and start caring about facts: the fact that you’re pretty, loving, a protective friend, a talented writer and a good cook. There are so many good things about you that will never change no matter what they think or say about you. And you don’t need to prove your worth to anyone to know that you are worth loving and respecting.
Respect yourself. That is enough. Respect and love yourself and everyone will follow. It’s true. But by then, you don’t need everyone’s approval anymore. You wouldn’t need or expect everyone else to respect and love you anymore, because you’ve had enough love for yourself.
So was I wrong to love someone like her?
I’m not really the judge of that. For one, I really don’t care. Not because I don’t care about you, but because I just don’t think bothering with other people’s decisions is a good thing. I respect your decisions & trust that you are mature enough and will take responsibility.
The thing is, if you believe that what you’re doing is completely right, why would you question it?
That’s why I asked you. I don’t know if what I’m doing IS RIGHT.
If it’s something you have to question, then it means it’s wrong. All right things are right and never doubted. All wrong things are questioned.
Do you really love her because you love her? Or do you love her because she understands you when no one else does, and gives you time and attention and makes an effort to make you feel special when no one else could?
Because love is only love when you’re at the highest point of your life, and you have the best of everything. Life is complete, and that person is the only one missing. You don’t need someone else to make you happy, but you need someone for no reason.
I don’t think it’s about gender when it comes to love. But in this case, and I’m sorry if it seems judgemental, you might be going for a girl this time because she’s all you have.
Well I’m pretty sure I’m straight. But I just want to try it out.
It’s okay. Maybe you’re just saying you’re straight because we’re all Catholic here. No pressure. But I’ve known you specifically, and I do think you’re straight. In which case, if you think you’re straight too–and we’re all sure that your girlfriend’s completely lesbian–then wouldn’t “trying it out” just be “playing around with her heart”?
You don’t just try out relationships like they’re shoes, or sample on hearts like they were free taste tests in the market. You try out dates–never relationships, never with people who love you back. You never lie with, “Good morning, I love you. :)” You don’t feign concern when you ask if they’ve had dinner. You don’t act out the role of the girl who’s madly in love.
You don’t just walk lightly in onto a person’s life, and run out, trampling over a heart and crushing it into a tiny million pieces, as much as you please.
I’m sure I told you that you were pretty, and talented, and special. And I told you that you had every right to be with anyone. But honey, that doesn’t put you in a position to take everything you want. That’s what everyone is afraid about. And that’s why everyone’s so batshit angry at you, drowning in every insecurity they have.
But I’m not taking everything I want. And we know I don’t mean to.
I’m sure you aren’t. I’m not saying that you are. But that’s the reason why they’re all afraid–because you can. And as much as you have insecurities and fears about your reputation and how you’re being treated or mistreated in school, every other girl does too.
And it isn’t your fault that people’s boyfriends turn heads when you walk past. They have to suck it up and just stop being jealous. But if you were with someone, who thought of someone else and looked at someone else, wouldn’t that make you feel a little less special than he or she should treat you?
It isn’t your fault. But play nice. They’re having a hard time just as much as you are.
She’s a lovely young lady. But she told me that she was going to give this particular young man a chance because he’s been kissing on the ground she walked on for the past half-year. The agony of the long wait must have been truly killer. So as soon as the bi-curiosity is satisfied and the trial version expires, she’s back to the entertaining hopeless little men that she used to laugh at for chasing her and writing her letters–oh the woes of the young and truly beautiful. And though I get it, kinda makes me want to bang her on the head with a frying pan for the entire ordeal of the hearts aren’t free samples of fried meat in the market thing.
Oh well. Whatever suits her best judgement. I can’t be right all the time, and she’s a young teen. She has to learn things in her own way. And we’ve all gone through some sort of heartache somehow–we didn’t die, right? Right? Please tell me that no one’s died of heartbreak? Please?