Ugly Duckling | Celeste Johnson

I had a chubby childhood. I hit puberty way too young; growing breasts at age 6 and having my first period at age 8, on my 8th birthday nonetheless (Happy Birthday from Mother Nature). Growing breasts so early, you think I would have been popular.

In some respects, I never got to enjoy all aspects of being a child. Wearing a bra (and actually needing one unlike other "bra wearing" flat or concave chested girls) in Elementary School and having periods before most girls even know what they are, left me a wide open target for being picked on. I steadily gained weight and in 5th grade, I was the second fattest kid in my class, weighing in at 109 pounds.

I would look at all the stick figured girls, wishing to be as thin and popular as them, feeling so left out, and then I would pop another brownie in my always open mouth. I did have two best friends, but we were more or less the social misfits and outcasts from lots of the kids at school. Shelley was tall, skinny, and kind of lanky. In addition to her bushy eyebrows, she also grew armpit hair and got bad BO in 6th grade and was mercilessly picked on. Stacia was small and from a weird disease she had in the second grade, was physically awkward. She had to learn how to walk all over again and to this day, she still walks a bit differently. Then there was me: short, fat, boobs, zits, periods, etc. We stuck out like sore thumbs, so we stuck together.

I remember a particular Valentine's Day when we were in 6th grade. We were told by Mrs. Parr to bring EVERYONE in our class a Valentine so no one would feel left out. There was a certain boy whom hated me and I didn't like him. He never let a moment go by without picking on me, which he did constantly on a daily basis. (Like I needed more self esteem problems.) Grudgingly, the night before Valentine's Day, I signed a card for this mean boy. Then the next day came. I walked the classroom and handed out the cards. I put one in his box. After I was done, I sat down (unfortunately my seat was not far from his) and I heard him make a big production about getting a card from me and destroyed it. All his friends were gathered around and they all chuckled as he made a scene. It broke my heart. My self esteem was at an all time low. I thought it couldn't get much worse. Then was Junior High.

You could not pay me enough to go back and relive those days of hell. I had got up to 150 pounds and was as fat as ever. Although nowadays that isn't considered "fat," it was then, and I paid a high price for my emotional eating. I also wore too much make-up, trying to compensate for me fluffy appearance, and half the time looked like a whore.

Stacia and I clung to each other, our very survival depended on it. We would sit be each other at lunch and talk to our other "friends." Usually our lunch table was quite full of other social misfits, until this one day. It stands out in my head. There were only a couple people there, besides us. We couldn't figure out why the people we thought were our friends were shunning us.

Junior High gossip is like a plague and travels faster than the speed of light. A so-called friend approached us and asked us if it was true. We didn't have a clue what she was going on about. According to the popular kids, Stacia and I were lesbians and were caught french kissing in the hallway by Mrs. Wellmeyer; or so the story went. We looked at each other, screwed up our faces in disgust and exclaimed, "EW!"

Even with our best efforts, we unsuccessful in getting it through to everyone that it was NOT true. People are like lemmings and follow others blindly. The taunting and ridicule were the worst. Notes were passed in several classes about us. The main instigators even made up another language so they could talk about us behind our backs in front of us. Nice, that's real class there.

Stacia and I even considered suicide. It was so hard to focus and deal with the pain and hurt we were feeling. We were dealing with bigger emotions than our young hearts could bear. We spoke to one of the counselors. She talked us out of killing ourselves.

At the end of 8th grade, we found out that we would be in different high schools the following years. Our hearts sank. So much our of school survival was being together. I knew that if I was alone, without a best friend, I would be fresh dead meat for the vultures. I thought that I could make a new start. I could lose the weight that kept me from being popular and the popular kids would accept me as one of their own.

During the summer before I started high school, I decided I needed to do something about my weight. I cut out a lot of second helpings when I wasn't hungry because I just wanted to keep eating, it tasted good. Also, I woke up at every other morning at 4:30 AM to go running with my mom. For someone who hated exercise as much as me, this was a difficult task. We would run around the high school track. Well, my mom would run, I would sort of run then have to walk. I couldn't run more than an 8th a mile before I was exhausted and would walk a 4th a mile before running another 8th. Slowly but surely, my muscles started to gain strength. I was able to run a 4th a mile before needing to take a break. And over the summer, I transformed from a lazy couch potato who couldn't run much, to someone who was able to run 2 miles, without stopping and do it in 15 minutes!

Not only had I increased my running ability, my weight started to melt off. I enjoyed looking at myself in the mirror. I bought lots of new clothes that nicely accented my new figure. I even wore less make up and learned how to apply it properly. I couldn't wait for school to start! Now I would be accepted and finally know what it was like to be popular. It didn't matter that these people used to make my life a living hell, they were popular and therefore, must be awesome. I went to school the first day, expecting all sorts of, "Wow, Celeste! You look hot! You wanna go to Homecoming?" from the guys and, "Wow Celeste, you really worked out this summer. Wanna hang out with us?" from the girls.

I tried to walk by the popular kids, smile, say hi, and hope they would notice me. Not even one double take. I was crushed. I worked my butt off, literally, for nothing. I couldn't understand why they didn't like me. I was wearing the popular clothes, wore nice make up, and was skinny. None of that mattered to them.

After a few days of desperation to get noticed, I came to the conclusion that if they did end up being my "friend" it wouldn't be for the real me that is inside, the one that was still the same, just more self confident. I didn't want to be friends with someone who would only like me because of what showed on the outside. They were still the mean, ugly spirited kids from Elementary School that picked on me then, and the ones from Junior High that caused a lot of pain and suffering.

I feel sorry for them. They never get to know the wonderful, giving person and fiercely loyal friend that I am. Their loss, my gain.