The world has never seen me the way I've seen myself. I think the one thing you could say I've been a victim of my whole life is people thinking that I think very highly of myself. I have yet to meet a person who didn't assume off the bat that I'm a conceited, stuck-up bitch. It is everyone's first impression, and I've received this from little more than simply walking into a room.

It's a confusing thing when you're insecure and everyone thinks you're conceited. My insecurity was not rooted from my home life. In fact, it was my family that helped me keep my head above water when my grade school classmates were so determined to drown me. My grade school experience was definitely not the worst in the world. I know many kids have had much harder times, but relative to my life, it was my own hard time, and it shaped me the way I am now. One cannot be unaffected by ridicule because there are other children in other schools that are having a much harder time.

I didn't quite fit in. I wasn't a big fan of the few friends I did have. I went to a tiny little grammar school, only 14 kids in my class, and kids did not really hang out that much with people outside of their class. I was an overachiever. I had straight A's, and got along very well with all my teachers. I was the most athletic girl, and more athletic than most of the guys. After school and during lunch breaks, I got along with the boys better, but I was no where near a tomboy. During classes, it was a different story. Somehow, I became the object of every joke. I liked learning, and academic enthusiasm is not often marked as "cool" in school. I was considered a nerd, whether or not I looked like one.

My mom and sisters explained to me that some boys had crushes on me and other people were jealous. I was an enemy because I was good at school and wanted to learn. They told me that I was better than them because I wouldn't be mean like that to anyone. Part of me believed them, hence the confidence I have buried deep inside that peeks through on occasion. Part of me could only recognize the isolation I experienced, and that is the part of me where insecurity and self-doubt was born. Those students made me feel embarrassed about loving what I loved. A person should never feel shame about his passion.

I became bitter and untrusting. I was capable of love and making friends, but whenever I was in a large group, I couldn't help but think they hated me. That was all I knew as far back as I could remember, and when you go from age 0 to age 12 knowing that the only peers that surround you are making fun of you and want you to feel separate, it's nearly impossible to shake off. No matter how good things go, I have a childhood that I can't erase that left me feeling stupid among peers no matter how hard I try to be good at something. Who knows what I could have already accomplished if I didn't have those kids in my history, or better yet, if I didn't let them get to me. My mother and sisters gave every piece of advice they had in their heads on how to deal with these kids. They suggested ignoring them. My mom suggested that I grab them each by the arm when they got to me and looked them straight in the eye and say, "Enough!" She said not to let go of them until I saw in their eyes that they wouldn't bother me again. It was a great idea, but I didn't have the balls to do it. I let them get to me, and it seems as though at the age of 22, I'm still letting kids get to me.

Middle school/high school was a whole other experience. I gave some illusion of popularity, it seems. If you asked some of the girls who went to my school, they would tell you that I was well-liked. They would tell you that I was confident. Some of my girlfriends and I would talk on three-way, and they would always ask me to have a party because "I knew the boys." This happened often and the conversation was always the same:

"Lori, have a party."
"Why do you want me to have a party? Why do you always ask me?"
"Because you know boys."
"What boys do I know? I don't know any boys. Why do you always think I know all these boys?"

Luckily, in my all-girls Catholic high school, doing well in school was cool. The smartest girl in our class was brilliant in absolutely every single subject. She didn't care about her looks or invest money on fancy haircuts, expensive make-up, or popular clothes brands. She was also a lesbian. This usually is the recipe for a disastrous series of bullying and teasing. Instead, this girl was the most respected in the school. My mother claims that this girl's speech was the best speech she has ever heard in her life from anyone of any age.

My relationship with others in the school was complicated. My sister didn't have a positive relationship with her classmates. She was a senior when I was a freshman. A few sad and jealous girls decided to make her life hell, so as a freshman, I hated the senior class with a passion that I cannot even verbalize. In fact, they were perfect reasons why fame was at all appealing to me. Those girls were worth kicking in the face with a successful MTV show. Otherwise, fame wouldn't mean that much to me.

The grade below that (two years above me) had a few girls in it that I really liked. I sang with them, was in musicals with them, Dancers with them. I made them laugh, they made me feel accepted. Those were good and talented people.

The grade above me was all messed up. I had a rollercoaster relationship with them. One girl in that class was one of my best friends. I was close on and off with a few others. Then, this one girl decided to run around and talk about how conceited she thought I was. "She thinks she's so great," she would say about me, as if that makes any sense. I was insecure, but I was very confident about a few things. I was confident on stage, and I was confident with my looks. In my school, if you didn't have an eating disorder from hating your body so much, then you're conceited. I hated that bitch for a while. Then, after singing in a small and intense singing group with her, we came to have a mutual respect for each other. Though there were a few girls I liked, for the most part, that class could go to hell. Those were the types of girls who come from families that make the rest of us normal people literally sick to our stomachs. Those were the racist rich bitches that go to all-white country clubs and think that Laura Ashley has nice dresses. These daughters were real close to teachers and other members of the administration. They were classic kiss-asses, and you all know how I feel about that. They were mean to people unlike themselves and nice to people who had money and popularity. These are the girls I look forward to bumping into in the future. Let's just say that will be fun.

Then there's my class. These are good girls all together. Sure, some of them sucked at times, but I suck sometimes too. There were a few of these girls that sucked big time during middle school. They got better as the years went on, but they started off really stuck up. They thought the boys all loved them, and they acted like money was the key to being a good person. Luckily, as we all matured, we realized that that attitude is moronic and evil. Too bad the class above me never learned that lesson.

Anyway, it is possible that I was liked and popular, but as long as I thought that everyone hated me, I never reaped the benefits of that popularity. BMP directors and producers have told me stories of past cast members riding a wave of celebrity-attitude once the taping stops and the magazine interviews begin. They feel bigger than life, and they feel pretty damn proud of themselves. This isn't everyone, but many. I never enjoyed that time. As you can read from random thoughts written during this time which is supposed to be a high, I just panicked and believed everyone was going to hate me. So, I may have a life even greater than I know, but my problem is that I never know because I'm too quick to assume that everyone is making fun of me.

I thought about this when I was watching Boston Public tonight. Those pretty girls were giving the less pretty girl a hard time. The show touched upon bullying in a light and quick way that didn't impress me much, but the subject is always interesting. Well, actually, I have rarely looked at that subject with a calm and rational eye. I get completely enraged by kids out there that give other kids crap because they think they're weird, or dorky, or nerdy, or ugly. I know this is what the Mandi Moore movie is about, but she apparently takes it better than I did.

Having a website is for me, but there is something that I want to say, and as long as people are reading, then I'm going to get this message out there for girls and boys who are being given a hard time or are having a hard time because that's what they've learned to expect from kids around them. I've read how unsympathetic, cold, heartless, and callous kids can be. I consider myself to be a strong and mature adult, and even in this past year I had to suffer under the ridicule of teenagers that think they fucking know everything. I can only imagine what these same kids say to others in their school they don't like, and I can only imagine how those kids react.

If any of you out there reading this give other people shit because you, for some reason, actually believe you are better than them, or that it's actually fucking funny to humiliate another person, then I have this to say to you: fuck you. Get over yourself. I know that sounds harsh, but after all the lessons adults give about treating others with respect, kids are still being assholes, so I'm taking another approach. It is NOT cool to make fun of other people, and I'm not going to sugarcoat that concept for you. There is nothing more that pisses me off than a snob. You KNOW if you're one of these people. You know it, and don't even make excuses inside your head about how your situation of bullying is not that bad because it IS bad to the person you're hurting.

I've bumped into kids from my class from grammar school. I meant to have a nice conversation with them since I haven't seen them in over ten years. They grew up to be mature and lovely people, and all of a sudden I was one of those people I hate on Ricki Lake who run their mouths off trying to make these adults feel badly about the way the acted in their childhood. I couldn't help it, I just started rambling about everything they did to me that made me feel awful. They told me they had a crush on me and didn't remember being mean at all. My family was right. Doesn't change the fact that they were making me cry when I was 9 and knew it. I don't care what the intention was, I ended up having an emotional problem that has carried over to my adulthood, and excuses don't make me feel better.

If you're a person who bullies other people, you'll get over it and forget. The ones who were bullied will remember forever. Look at Brad Pitt's character on Friends, look at that guy on Billy Madison who was ready to kill Billy for what he did in high school. God, look at the whole movie. Look at all the shootings in schools because "freaks" are so angry they cannot think past their rage. My point is, you are not only not cool if you do this to someone else, you are the lamest person on earth.

I can't think of a poetic way to end this because I'm all angry now. I have to go read a book for class tomorrow. I hope someone got something out of this. If not, then at least I feel better.