Lisha Cassibo has been writing for the Uxbridge Cosmos for two years, both as a freelancer and as a columnist. She has also written for several parenting magazines both here in Canada and for English publications in Switzerland. She graduated from Carleton University with an honours degree in Journalism and English Literature. She lives with her family in Sunderland.
Fringe benefits
A few incidents that have occurred in my life recently (the details of which I will not bore you with here) have proven to me that, even now that I am in the second half of my life, the events and issues that plagued me in the first half follow me still. It has become painfully obvious that those early years really were the formative years, and that any paths I laid for myself then have not let me stray from them all these years later. In short, growing up, I was never the “cool kid”. I've come to realize that I am still not the “cool kid”. I may become a “cool senior”, but that remains to be seen. Probably not.
By cool I mean part of the “in” crowd. Uxbridge is a small town, and it was even smaller when I was young. Uxbridge Public School's Class of '82 wasn't that large, but even it had its cliques - its popular crowd, its sporty crowd, its “less than popular” crowd (to outright say loser wouldn't be nice) and its, well, people like me crowd. We could be friends with the “it” kids, and even played with them at morning recess, but we could just as easily have been beaten up by them at afternoon recess of the same day. I have very clear recollections of being bullied by some very big girls in our class, and many unpleasant memories of the taunting and teasing that came with never quite fitting in.
Moving on to junior high and high school didn't do much to change the situation. In high school I was part of a foursome that was the oddest bunch you'd ever dream of putting together, but somehow we all just clicked. One was the brainiac of the group, the valedictorian, the lead in the school play, the Fair Queen - she had it all, and everyone loved her. One was the artsy type - fabulous musician, fabulous artist, fabulous dresser - she was the epitome of '80s fashion - and everyone loved her. One was the sports master - there wasn't a sport she didn't play in that she didn't excel at. And she was smart. And beautiful. And confident. And everyone loved her. And then there was me. I'm not sure what I contributed to this little group, but we had a smashing good time together and it got me through my years at U.S.S., but I was still never part of what I called “The Shiny People.”
I came as close as I think I ever will to being an “It” girl when I changed high schools in grade 12. I was the new kid, and could create any kind of persona for myself I wanted. I got snatched up by all the cool kids at the school, and really found out what it was to be “popular”. Fortunately for me, I was able to keep up appearances with all the brand names that being cool requires, as I had a part time job that outfitted me in the Roots and Eddie Bauer that was must-have at the time. I really lived the high life for that year and a half of school. And I refuse to believe that most of the school population wooed me simply because I was the vice-principal's daughter. All right, fine. It might have had something to do with it. But it was still kinda neat. Funny thing is, though, my bestest bestie then was a girl that was definitely on the fringe, not part of the “in” crowd. She's still one of my dearest friends, although she's stopped dying her hair purple.
Why am I going on about my sordid past? Because, as I mentioned earlier, a few events that have occurred recently have made me realize anew that I somehow never manage to be part of the “in” crowd. And it's really got me wondering why this is the case. What is it about me that just doesn't put me in that kind of a social situation? Do I even care? I must, or I wouldn't write about it, right? In writing this, though, I wonder if I do care. I think I would rather be thought of as being a little left-of-centre, as it were, rather than boring old mainstream. I would rather people know that that little drummer in my head is just a-pounding away, happy as can be, to his own beat. I can do a little more as I please. Actually, that's probably how I ended up this way in the first place! In thinking back on my own childhood, I of course wonder if it will it be the same for my kids. (I doubt it for my youngest - we visited the school last year, when she hadn't even started school yet, and as she and I walked down the crowded hall, every other person that passed us called out her name and said hi. No word of a lie. She knew more people in that hallway than I've known in my lifetime. She was four.)
I'm not a social pariah by any stretch, but I think I've finally come to terms with the fact that I will never be an “It Girl”. And that's okay. I have found someone who loves me. My kids think I'm great (although I give it a year until my eldest discovers that I am the most UNCOOL person to have ever walked the planet…). I have friends that return my calls, so I can't be a complete doofus. Perhaps I don't get invited to all the great parties. Perhaps I don't know all the ins and outs and goings on at work. Perhaps I am a little out of the loop. Just gives me more opportunity to sit back and absorb, watch how funny life is, and kinda go my own way. I think I'm happiest this way.
