Thinning the Pack

Yesterday we hosted a pool party for the Cub Scouts. I thought we should call it “Thinning the Pack” and throw them in to see who floated, but my husband was not amused and proceeded to inform me that alcohol was not permitted at official functions and I had to respect him since he’s their leader. We decided ahead of time to divide and conquer, so I assumed responsibility for the pool and left him to work the kitchen.

It wasn’t until the first parents arrived that I realized the flaw in my plan. All the parents knew each other. I, however, don’t attend Cub Scout events. This isn’t due to any particular protest, although if they think they’re keeping out gay 8 year-olds, they’re idiots. I know more than one little boy in our pack who thinks girls are icky. I handle all our other extra-curriculars. I leave the boys to their Scouts.

I was extremely nervous about introducing myself to the parents I’d never met. Instead of my normal bikini, I wore shorts and a tank top. Sometimes, being semi-attractive has drawbacks. People assume I’m arrogant and bitchy when really I’m more like a stalled car trying to choke out conversation. I’m more introverted than snobby. My friend Paul would insert a, “Poor baby, is it awful to be attractive?” right here. Suck it, Paul. We already had this conversation and your professional success more than compensates for anything you perceive as an aesthetic failing. Plenty of desperate internet women send you pictures of boobs.

Maybe I wasn’t an ugly duckling to begin with, but it still startles me when people approach me in public and compare me to Maggie Gyllenhaal. I’m flattered, but external praise has its drawbacks because, even when it’s positive, it lowers my self-esteem in the long run when it doesn’t continue or when I feel I have to meet a certain standard.

Maggie

Me

Are we twins? Not exactly. But I’m pretty sure I just need better lighting and a boss like James Spader to whip me into shape.

Luckily, the first mom to arrive and I hit it off. It turns out she published a book as well and, after feeling each other out to ensure a lack of judgment, we had tons to talk about. It’s hard to divulge my book information when I know that person will immediately Google me on Sunday morning, perhaps before church, and learn I have a folder on my computer named Bible Verses that’s full of porn. Have no fear, it includes no Boy Scouts, and I'll only release it publicly if I decide to run for a political office. Mostly, I just hope to provide entertainment so the NSA will monitor us and one of them will be bored enough after rifling through my files to write me a book review. It might guarantee I’ll be first in line for hell, though. I always wanted to be first at something.

Since the author-mom knew everyone else, she helped me fit in, and the conversation turned to bullying. As an adult, everyone assumes I was popular when I was younger, which couldn’t be further from the truth. When I said I related to the pain, I felt like the other women rolled their eyes, thinking, “Right, as if she understands,” because sometimes now I feel as judged for being pretty as I used to for not being.

I’m more comfortable in my body than in my head, which immediately jumped to the horror that was middle school. My older daughter will start sixth grade in a few weeks. I fell in love for the first time in sixth grade. Remember kissing me and your hands roaming to Eric Carmen’s Lose Control, Chad? And how really you just asked me to go steady on a dare from Matt? That was my first kiss. My first experience with a boy. Your hard-won $10 taught me that my body was worth more to a guy than my soul and for the most part, you were right.

In sixth grade, I walked home from school. A couple of the popular girls lived close to me. I’d walk in front of their group and they’d lag behind, making fun of my clothes or daring each other to pull my earrings. I wouldn’t relive those years for anything, nor will I even pretend to for a class reunion. Those heartwarming after-school movies fucking lied. If there's any lesson I want to impart to my daughter, it's not to wear dangly earrings during her formative years.

And now I’m preparing to watch my child go through the same, crossing my fingers she will evade my misery, but also knowing in some form she will face her own and it will make her into the woman she will become. I have to help her navigate a world of teenage selfies and bullies who taunt through unrelenting cyber humiliation. The closest I came to cyber-bullying growing up was a three-way phone call.

I hope to find a way to instill confidence in her when sometimes it's hard for me to gather my own in my backyard. Maybe in some way, I can help her “Thin the Pack”, to discern people whose intent for her is not always positive, without jading her, because even as an adult, it's incredibly hard to do.