Writing 101, day Eleven: Size matters

Where was I at twelve?

Oh boy! I created this blog just now and it already feels like the first day at a new school.

Confused and clueless I am diving head-on into a four feet pool (Which is exactly what I did when I was twelve). Eight stitches, I got. And if I were a boy, I probably would have ended up with a bald patch or something. Anyhow, my point is that I was at my boarding school when I was twelve. I guess it was kind of a given now, isn’t it?

I had newly shifted to the school and need I mention? I was not loving it so far. I belonged to a small town in the hills. There weren’t any great schools back there. So my parents had sent me packing because this was one of the best schools in the country. Yeah right, tell that to my sewed up head. Losers! Couldn’t even keep tab on a little girl – what were they going to do for the rest?

Anyhow, my hatred for the school didn’t last long. Soon enough I transformed from an alien, who loved busting her head, to one of their own. And before I knew I was feeling boarding sick. You know as opposed to ‘home sick’? Poor attempt, I know. But at least I tried to make you laugh.

So you know the teenage was upon us- a bunch of six girls, in an all girls boarding. Chocolates, candies and Enid Blyton were suddenly giving way to other boys oops sorry, I meant joys of life. Of course, this wasn’t going too well with the sisters at the convent. But we still somehow managed to keep our little secrets and sneak under the sister’s nose copies of romantic novels alongside the forbidden tuck.

Years passed and we delved deeper into this girl-boy thing. And it took us not more than a heartbreak or two to realize that we were better off at twelve. A scraped knee was any day better than a wounded heart.

It was great to not know a thing about the social media and yet have friends. It was not bizarre to not have a hundred thousand ways to connect and yet be able to make some real connections.

At twelve not everything stooped down to some sleazy double meaning innuendo. Back then we knew what girls looked like in human hair? From someone’s kind heart to an internet connection we took nothing for granted. We believed in sharing and not just on facebook. Lastly, it was so much better when ass was just a cute funny animal and pussy was just a cat!

So if you ask me, where I was when I was twelve? I’d say I was at a happy place.

 

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