Bitch - A new definition.
For as long as I can remember, cliques have been a thing, a big thing. It's what we have been taught in films as we grew up and as natural as it was for us to understand then, it would later shock us how natural it was for us to fall into the exact same situations ourselves even now. (I mean, only when we were the ones feeling the heat, right?)
The first real experience I had myself was within the first months of secondary school, obviously. The first girl that I'd made friends with that I didn't previously know opened up a whole different world for me. One that I still find myself on the outside of occasionally and not at all obsessivley looking in on through Instagram to this day.
I've always found it hard to be friends with girls, this is something I'm still trying to figure out. Perhaps it's because I'm loud, slightly outspoken and maybe even a little odd at times. At 12 I was what you used to expect a 12 year old to look like. I had thick long blonde hair with a (supposed to be straight but actually kind of wonky) parting down the middle all before it became socially acceptable and they were still called "curtains." My hair was in no way styled, I wore the occasional thick black headband to keep the hair out of my face, purely practical and in no way fashionable. At all. I wore no makeup, had eyebrows that even Cara Delevinge would struggle to achieve and wore a cross body Tinkerbell bag that my older sister often stole and donned in a cool edgy way. She could get away with it, I on the other hand could not. Some of this is what lead the girls friends to wonder why she even spoke to me in the first place. They were the start of the new generation of teenagers who look better than I do now at 22, have better makeup and clothes than me and never seemed to have to go through that awkward stage of scrunchies and blue mascara.
This started a short battle between me, the Five of them and our mutual friend right in the middle. They sat and talked about me while they stared and giggled, they'd make a point out of talking about me as soon as I walked in the room. I didn't necessarily mind. To some extent it would amuse me to see them thinking they had the last laugh. Or so I told myself...
These types of cliques were everywhere I looked though, no matter how big or small the group, it definitely existed. There was always a social hierarchy in every aspect of my life whether it be education or work. I honestly could not tell you which one I found worse. Of course the girls in school were harsher with their words and didn't really have to care what they said, it wouldn't cost them their job after all. However, going into my first job, straight out of school and ready for a fresh start I didn't quite expect it to be the same. These were women I was working with, Women who had presumably experienced or at least witnessed these kind of cruelties in their life. Isn't their supposed to be a sense of morale in the work place? Oh yes, apparently not. Instead I was met with the sharp tongue of those around me. Apparently just coming out of school and having zero life experience was hilarious to these women. They loved it, the slightest mistake, the slightest sign of being "The blonde I was obviously meant to be" and they ate it up. Now I'm not the smartest person, and I do make silly mistakes and I'm the first one to laugh about it but there's a line which they often crossed. I'm good at what I know, and that's what should matter especially at the age of 16 nonetheless. Woman are supposed to stick together right? However, these people did think they were being friends throughout all of this. To each other I mean. They bonded over it, it often brought them together, somehow made them stronger. Whenever somebody else is picked on, they are side by side and will revel in it for days to come.
These girls would have branded this Comradery. I would have branded this bitch.
The first real experience I had myself was within the first months of secondary school, obviously. The first girl that I'd made friends with that I didn't previously know opened up a whole different world for me. One that I still find myself on the outside of occasionally and not at all obsessivley looking in on through Instagram to this day.
I've always found it hard to be friends with girls, this is something I'm still trying to figure out. Perhaps it's because I'm loud, slightly outspoken and maybe even a little odd at times. At 12 I was what you used to expect a 12 year old to look like. I had thick long blonde hair with a (supposed to be straight but actually kind of wonky) parting down the middle all before it became socially acceptable and they were still called "curtains." My hair was in no way styled, I wore the occasional thick black headband to keep the hair out of my face, purely practical and in no way fashionable. At all. I wore no makeup, had eyebrows that even Cara Delevinge would struggle to achieve and wore a cross body Tinkerbell bag that my older sister often stole and donned in a cool edgy way. She could get away with it, I on the other hand could not. Some of this is what lead the girls friends to wonder why she even spoke to me in the first place. They were the start of the new generation of teenagers who look better than I do now at 22, have better makeup and clothes than me and never seemed to have to go through that awkward stage of scrunchies and blue mascara.
This started a short battle between me, the Five of them and our mutual friend right in the middle. They sat and talked about me while they stared and giggled, they'd make a point out of talking about me as soon as I walked in the room. I didn't necessarily mind. To some extent it would amuse me to see them thinking they had the last laugh. Or so I told myself...
These types of cliques were everywhere I looked though, no matter how big or small the group, it definitely existed. There was always a social hierarchy in every aspect of my life whether it be education or work. I honestly could not tell you which one I found worse. Of course the girls in school were harsher with their words and didn't really have to care what they said, it wouldn't cost them their job after all. However, going into my first job, straight out of school and ready for a fresh start I didn't quite expect it to be the same. These were women I was working with, Women who had presumably experienced or at least witnessed these kind of cruelties in their life. Isn't their supposed to be a sense of morale in the work place? Oh yes, apparently not. Instead I was met with the sharp tongue of those around me. Apparently just coming out of school and having zero life experience was hilarious to these women. They loved it, the slightest mistake, the slightest sign of being "The blonde I was obviously meant to be" and they ate it up. Now I'm not the smartest person, and I do make silly mistakes and I'm the first one to laugh about it but there's a line which they often crossed. I'm good at what I know, and that's what should matter especially at the age of 16 nonetheless. Woman are supposed to stick together right? However, these people did think they were being friends throughout all of this. To each other I mean. They bonded over it, it often brought them together, somehow made them stronger. Whenever somebody else is picked on, they are side by side and will revel in it for days to come.
These girls would have branded this Comradery. I would have branded this bitch.