2. the day we met.

When I was about to start 8th grade, my parents decided that I would begin at a different school. My assumption was that they were sending me to a private school with dress code requirements in an attempt to persuade me to conform gender wise. In reality, they were frustrated with how much I was being bullied at my public school. In Bergen County, New Jersey, as a 14 year old lesbian that looked more like a boy than many of the boys in her grade, I didn’t exactly fit in. I got picked on, a LOT. Most of it was in direct response to my boy clothes, my bowl cut or my desire to hang out with guys instead of girls. I think my parents hoped that a private school would be easier for me. This wasn't the case.


From the first day at the new private school, I could tell things weren’t going to be as different as my parents had promised. Day one kicked off with a bang, full of insults, nasty looks and judgmental stares, just like before.

That weekend, one of the girls in my grade had a birthday party. 24 out of 25 students were invited. I’ll let you figure out who wasn’t.

I guess they were pretty fucking bored at this “party” because they spent a decent amount of time calling me at home and taunting me over the phone. In the background of the call, a girl’s voice was heard yelling “what are you doing? just leave her alone already!” That same voice, the voice of a popular girl named Jen, then came on the phone, apologizing for the other kids.

Come Monday morning, the name calling didn’t stop. The only difference was that now I had a friend.

Nash AzarianComment