Worst Insults I've Recieved Countdown

    Why is it the negative things in our lives seem to stick around so much longer, and with so much more impact, than the positive? Why is it so hard to let these things go? Words spoken by idiotic eleven year olds still have the power to hurt me over a decade later. I think we all have them; the insults we can't completely let go of, can't shake off no matter how many years pass. I thought it would be therapeutic for me to write them all down. Things seem much less threatening to me when I can get them out of my brain and onto paper. Or the internet, I guess.

 So, counting down, here are the insults that periodically jab me in the ribs and go, "Hey! Remember this insecurity you thought you were over?"

7. "The first time I saw you I thought, 'Someone needs to slap that b----.'" Said by a high school friend of mine. I remember entering that class. At fourteen, I was incredibly awkward, and thought the best course of action upon meeting people was to have a completely blank expression. A tabula rasa, if you will. Apparently, though, my blank face makes me look arrogant. Since she told me this, I make great effort to smile when I meet people. It's probably the most helpful insult I've ever received.

Lincoln impersonating my "blank face". Only his is cuter, and probably doesn't make people want to slap him.

 6. "Gall, do you always have to smirk when you're right?" Yes, apparently I do. The funny thing is, my "smirk" is me trying very, very hard to have no expression whatsoever because I'm trying NOT to rub it in. Kind of goes along with number seven, I apparently make weird facial expressions quite regularly.

5. "What do you weigh, a hundred pounds?!" Said by a boy I had a crush on, who was trying (and failing) to give me a boost. Oh, and so we're clear, he was emphasizing that a hundred pounds was a LARGE amount to weigh. Coming from a boy who was 6'4", I felt that was completely uncalled for, though mostly just ignorant (and by the way, I weighed a very healthy 125 at the time. What I wouldn't give to be 125 again).

4. "She walks like she thinks she's Britney Spears." Sixth grade. I had a group of "friends" who made no secret about the fact that they hated me. One of the girls would periodically come over and tell me all the mean things they said about me. As if I didn't feel gawky enough to be the first girl to get her growth spurt (and humongous boob spurt, no less), I had lots of people ready to make sure I knew how unliked I was. Thanks, guys. Appreciate it. You can all gag on your own vomit. And probably do on a regular basis, based on the facebook photos I've seen of you. 

3. "You have man knees." Sixth grade P.E. To this day I fear swimsuits, not for the normal reasons, but the angst it gives me to display my "man knees". WHAT THE FREAK ARE MAN KNEES?!

A rare glimpse of my man knees.

2. In the midst of a playful argument with a male friend over whether I was "too skinny" in high school (he was arguing pro, I was opposite, but barely resisting), another male who sat to the side of me interjected, "No, she's not. Look at her arms."
  Every time I get dressed in the morning, I look in the mirror, pinch the fat in my arms, and sigh. Thank you for that.

1. "Do you always have to be such a smart alec?" Sixth grade again. Man, that was a bad year for me. As far as the actual insult, it's not the worst I've had. But the fact that it was said by my teacher, Mr. Hilton, still makes me feel two feet tall whenever I think about it. Before Mr. Hilton, I was a complete teacher's pet. Obnoxiously so, I'll admit. I was smarter than most elementary school kids, and thus was often picked on or ostracized. So I felt more comfortable talking to adults a lot of the time. Ever since sixth grade, though, I have carried a crippling fear of teachers, or just people in authority in general. Which is sad, because I love most of the teachers I've had. But raising my hand and commenting in class still  leaves me on the verge of tears because I'm petrified that my teacher is inwardly rolling their eyes at me. Thanks, Mr. Hilton. I can't think of anyone less qualified to teach children in a particularly vulnerable time of their lives than you.


   What are the insults that still smart in your life? I know you have them. Lay 'em on me.