Being in a middle schooler in New York City is not for the weak. We were rowdy public nuisances. We’d spend our brief pre-curfew time buying $2 fries with barbecue sauce from the local Chinese food spots; then, we‘d get on to the subway and disturb the hardworking people just trying to get home after a long day.
I honestly don’t remember much from that time, but what I do recall isn’t pretty. I was probably a bit mean, and I felt all of the insecurities the average preteen girl felt, probably exacerbated to previously undiscovered levels..
The internet loves to talk about healing your inner child, but I often find that sentiment to be targeted on the person you were before the age of 10. I think the 10 year old version of me was actually a lot more emotionally organized than I am now. She was smart, with big dreams and aspirations that adults would scoff at. I even wrote a play at 9. There was nothing in the world that could stop that girl, and I honestly admire her to this day.
The middle school Malaika, however, was in desperate need of a hug. I was struggling with my mental health for the first time, and I was experiencing the first wave of acne breakouts that accompany puberty. I had a few great friends, but I always felt like I was just pretending to be cool and different. I let everyone around me inform my taste in everything, from music to the way I felt about my peers. I just wasn’t a real person.
Now that I’m at the start of my 20s, middle school feels like both ages ago and just yesterday. I’ve been so focused on trying to feel like myself after a somewhat difficult high school career that I completely dismissed the notion that the root of many of my problems can be traced back to sixth grade.
When I started high school, I tried quite hard to completely rebrand myself. I made new friends, started listening to new music, joined clubs I never thought I would. In trying to invent this new Malaika, I began to ignore all the things that made me happy just a year prior, which eventually led to me forgetting almost the entirety of that period of my life.
It’s not beneficial to my personal development to ignore who I was in middle school. If I want to love myself, I have to learn to love all versions of myself. It doesn’t matter if I’m thinking about the inspired 8 year old that believed she could accomplish anything she put her mind to, the 13 year old who thought she had to erase who she was to become the person she wanted to be, or the 18 year old trying to remember who she really was. I’ve always been me, and I have to remember that, accept that, love that.
Lots of love,
malaika <3
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