Ender

1-20-12

Fiction-y thing.
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If you can't join 'em, might as well beat 'em.

That was the philosophy she'd unknowingly lived by since she was small. Since the others had teased her for doing the right things, for listening to the teacher, for doing her homework, for being nice to the student they had deemed unacceptable. But even that student teased her because kindness and friendliness was mistaken for pity and condescension. So, even as a ten-year-old, she'd felt alone, judged, cast out. Somehow found wanting.

Unconsciously, she decided that if they--like Rudolph's fellow reindeer--wouldn't let her join in their games, she'd defeat them at their games, excel at everything ever put in front of her. She'd pretend not to care about them because they didn't care about her. She would show them what they had missed by skipping out on her.

Of course, that meant that she couldn't fail. Had to be perfect. Had to never let anything slip in front of them, for the slightest slip meant hurting all over again. Had to build the strongest walls and never let anyone through.

She didn't know any of that at the time, of course. She just thought, in her ten-year-old way, that she was taking solace in the homework and the books and the lessons, that since the real world had said, "You are not worthy to be part of us" and had left her surprised and hurt and angry.

Despite the fact that she'd now grown up (some) and seen how she'd been surprised and hurt and angry at being left alone, seen how that unconscious resolution had echoed and rippled through the years, seen how she'd grown, she still wrestled with the fear that she'd never join 'em, that she'd be alone.

And every time her very grown-up self saw situations she wanted to be in, or people she wanted to be friends (or more than) with, she did not know how to get what she desired. Didn't know how to take the risks she wanted to take, or how to get to know the guys she was attracted to, or how to feel confident enough to go for whatever she chose to do. All because her ten-year-old self whispered, "If you can't join 'em, might as well beat 'em. Like in Ender's Game."

Which was funny, seeing as her ten-year-old self hadn't ever read that particular book. Apparently, her ten-year-old self and her fifteen-year-old self had been conspiring against her.  They had spent so much time hiding from the others, from the ones that had judged her and found her wanting, found her to be too much and yet somehow not enough, that now she wanted to be visible, she was finding it difficult to be so. Not because there wasn't anything to see, but because everyone was so used to her being invisible. And because she didn't know how to become visible again, she was invisible.

Or, at least, felt like she was.
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