Who cares?

My junior year of high school was a pivotal one for me in many ways. One terrible experience stands out though, and it had nothing to do with my academic study.

It was the 90s, and things were very different. We had recently gotten televisions in every classroom. Channel One was a national broadcast that was shown to high school students all across the country. It was like getting the news every morning for a few minutes right there in school. The principal and teachers could also get on and broadcast a message to all the students. It was pretty cool.

One day in spring, at the end of the day, the television came to life. It was a boy in my grade, and after a few minutes of talking, he addressed me directly. In front of the entire school, he asked me to the prom. My embarrassment was at an all-time high. I was mortified.

I went home as quickly as I could, trying to escape the stares, laughter, and commentary that filled the school hallways.

I couldn’t make sense of what had happened. The boy who asked me wasn’t my friend. In fact, he and his group of buddies tortured me day in and day out. They made fun of how I looked, how I dressed, the answers I gave in class, and even how I laughed. I despised them all.

I poured my anguished soul out to my mom and asked her what to do. The whole school knew I had been asked to the prom by this particular boy. I felt trapped.

My mom, who was always ready with great wisdom and advice, told me I didn’t have to say yes. The choice of whether to go or not was mine. But, she added, whatever you decide, there will be consequences for that choice. If I said no, it was likely that no one else would ask, and I wouldn’t have a date for the dance.

UGH.

I delayed. I didn’t speak about the prom, the boy who asked me, or what I was going to do. Everyone would think I was horrible if I said no! They would hate me. I’d never have a date again. This mental anguish went on for days. Finally, the boy called me on the phone and wanted an answer. First, I asked him why he had asked me. His answer was succinct.

“I wanted to see what you would do.”

At that moment, I knew exactly what to do. I thanked him for asking me, but I would not be going to the prom with him. In my opinion (then and still now), people ask each other to school dances because they like each other and want to have fun together, not to elicit a reaction.

As silly as it sounds, saying no to that boy was a turning point in my life. I felt like I had committed social suicide, but I didn’t care. Well, that’s not really true. I did care! I cared a lot! I was in high school, after all. As hard as it was, I did what I thought was the best thing for me to do. I went to bed that night feeling lighter and better than I had for several days.

Still, tomorrow came and I had to go back to school and face the music. As anticipated, the gossip about me and the answer I gave spread like wildfire. I did my schoolwork and kept mentally reminding myself that I had made the right decision. It was hard to do. Lots of rumors about me and what a spoiled brat I was swirled around. It was a rough couple of days.

I survived.

From the outside, I think it looks like I don’t care what other people think. Let me set the record straight—that’s not true. Just like I did in high school, I care quite a bit. I want people to like me and think my decisions are great ones. I want to be loved and adored for everything! Who doesn’t?

However, I don’t let what everyone else thinks (or even what I think they are thinking) determine the decisions I make. I make choices and move forward. And then I do it again and again.

You can, too.