"New Girl" - Blog #2

I read this blog post as thoroughly as possible to really understand exactly what I’m supposed to be writing about. It suddenly clicked with me when Robin emphasized how designating labels and diagnosing people can shape their life (in good ways and bad). This is when I remembered (but really how could I forget?) one of my more traumatic life experiences. Have you ever moved to a new town in the most fragile years of your adolescence? I did. I thought I was a tough kid, but I now know that I will do whatever I can to avoid having to move my future children during their middle school years. When I lived in Milwaukee, I thought I had everything. My family was well known, and very well liked and respected in my hometown. But then we moved, and I went from being labeled as “popular” to “new girl”. Not quite a blank slate (which certainly would’ve been better) because there was a certain connotation and designation that came with the “new girl” label. And I soon found out that “new girl” is not the label you want when you’re twelve and starting the eighth grade. You know the years I’m talking about, where everyone labels the new kid as weird, and everyone has their “group” and isn’t exactly looking for new members. This was my reality, and at the time I felt feelings that I never knew could exist, and I didn’t quite realize at the time what I was feeling. I was constantly holding back tears, to the point where my new guidance counselor had to pull me out of class to make sure I was doing okay (I wasn’t). This “new girl” label was absolutely detrimental to my self-esteem and mental health.

Moving in 8th grade, and knowing absolutely no one, contributed to the rise of some mental health issues that I struggled with for the first few months in my new town. I’m certainly okay now, and I don’t feel the depression or gripping anxiety that I did back then. It’s different now, and I know how I can handle this, because my current anxieties stem from college and adult related stresses. When I moved, I know my feelings came from a total shock of being removed from everything that I was comfortable with, but I learned later in my life how much I am like my parents and their siblings. It wasn’t until I turned 20 that my mom told me about all of the mental health issues that her family and my father’s family experience/experienced. It was a relief to know that I wasn’t alone, especially knowing that the people I loved the most would always be able to understand how I was feeling. I had a little bit of clarity and reassurance to finally understand why I am the way that I am.

I have repeatedly explained how horrible my moving experience was, but in the most cliche way possible I know that it was probably one of the best things that could’ve happened to me. 22 year old me wishes she could travel back to 2008 to let 12 year old me know that everything would be okay. I’ve learned so much about myself reflecting on this experience, and how much better of a person I’ve become. As my mental issues are something that my immediate and extended family deals with, I can confidently say that Pinker and I probably on the same page. I’m sure Lewontin would find a way to relate it back to my environment, but I find a little more comfort thinking about it from a genetic standpoint.