Exposed

I have always heard how smart, talented, attractive and great my older siblings were. My oldest brother, Vic, was an athlete. Any sport he tried he mastered. Vic changed girlfriends like he changed socks. My other brother, Jo, was one of the most popular guys in school: he was voted “Best Personality” and everyone knew him as the smart, cool, funny, attractive guy he was. Choir was my sister Rosario’s specialty. Her amazing alto voice set her apart from the rest. She had few, but very close friends. In comparison to all of them, I was the awkward one who wasn’t good at anything. I was constantly hiding behind my name and reputation of my siblings. Naturally, we all went to the same high school and I had a name to live up to. While registering for classes I chose to join marching band. Since none of my siblings were in band, there wasn’t a bar to reach; I was finally on my own. What I didn’t realize was when I decided to join, I unknowingly chose to expose myself completely.

Joining marching band meant traveling four hours on a bus from Kentwood, Michigan to North Manchester College in Indiana to learn our half-time show. After we arrived, we were all shuffled into the field house for a meeting. Slowly my eyes adjusted from the bright sun to the dark field house, and when they did, I wanted to turn around and go right back home. An entire set of bleachers were filled with kids that were so much taller than me and, looked so much older, like they had been doing this for years. What was I thinking? There are almost three hundred kids here! I quit! I want to go home right now and be “little Sasota,” and be in the shadows of my siblings once more. Turning to my band camp roommate, Caron, I saw the fear on my face mimicked on hers. “Sit by me?” I said. Nodding in response, we sat as close as possible, almost saying we were a set. When the speech by the band directors was over, we had to break up into groups, called sections; each section was determined by instrument. Not looking at one another, we both said, “I’ll see you tonight.” She went to join her section and I walked over to the tenor saxophones.

As I approached my section, intimidation radiated from them. Six upperclassmen stood confidently; all of them towered almost a foot over me. They were all talking and joking when I timidly approached. I felt like the weird extra kid no one wants, but who gets shoved in the group regardless. I’ll never fit in. Silence overtook my section as I awkwardly sat down in the circle. I knew they were judging me, wondering if I’d be a burden or an asset to the group. Feeling their eyes on me, I commenced playing with my shoe so they wouldn’t see my insecurity. After a minute or two my section started talking again. I still felt someone staring, but it felt different. These eyes felt kind, curious, not judging. Plucking up my courage, I looked up.

He smiled and said, “Hi I’m Ben, I don’t think we’ve met before.” He’s hot. His short brown hair, a smile that could melt any girl’s heart; he has a nice build, around 6’2? Perhaps he’s an athlete? Maybe I should stop staring and answer him.

“Hi, I’m Jocy?” I replied questioningly. Awesome, now I look like a brilliant, probably bright red freshman. Way to go.

“Nice to meet you.” He flashed me another smile, and looked down.

I started fixing my hair and fiddling with my drill book which contains my coordinates on the field. He’s really hot and I’m well…not. Okay, now I’m being creepy. I shouldn’t stare at him, even though he is really attractive. Just say something! Looking up and opening my mouth, he was gone. Turning to the guy next to me, I asked where Ben went. I felt someone walking by me so I looked up, Ben was staring directly at me. “Sorry, I went to the bathroom. Were you looking for me?” He asked.

Way to look like a creeper. I mumbled, “Nothing,” and looked away in response. He took his spot across from me, and gave me a warm smile. I began to concentrate on my drill book, but out of the corner of my eye I kept seeing him look up and smile. My section leader Laura, or the best player and marcher in the section, brought Ben and I out of our game. In case I was horrible, she placed me between her and Ben because he was the next best marcher.

“That’s fine,” was my reply. Eight hours a day in the blazing sun next to a hot guy. Aren’t I lucky?

“Cool, now we’ll get a chance to know each other,” he replied, as he flashed me a smile and winked. We turned our attention back to our drill. As we finished our books we kept smiling and missing each other.

Laura didn’t need to worry about me. Marching band evidently was my forte. I nailed every spot, except one set that seemed impossible. It was twenty yards in sixteen counts going backwards. Our section attempted this once and got called out by our directors because we didn’t make it. We tried again and Laura ended up stepping on my foot. As a result, I did a quick double step tripped on Ben’s foot, and I knew it would be a domino effect. I’m going to take out all six of us. So much for me rocking out at marching. My thoughts were interrupted as I felt an arm wrap across my back and under my arm. He caught me and set me back on my feet. Laughing so hard at my clumsiness, I fell to the ground and began rolling around. After the rest of the band and I stopped laughing, Ben helped me up and brushed the grass off my shirt and picked it out of my hair. “I wouldn’t let you fall, but that was hilarious.” As my section and I laughed, I realized I had found someone to support me. I never had anyone who would risk falling just to keep me steady. Ben built me up instead of tearing me down.

Shortly after band camp was over, I had to go back home and school where everything was going to be the same, despite how different I had become over the past week. I was back to my specialty of ripping myself apart and tearing me down. Getting a test back, my unhealthy habit served me well. Honestly? B+, you needed an A. Not only did you get a B on the last quiz, you couldn’t even make up for it. I went home, sat in the kitchen and cried until my mom came home. I told her my grade and she brought me down even more. Affirming my fear, my mom said, “Are you even going to get into college with your grades? I don’t think you’re dumb, you’re just so lazy. Go to your room, I don’t want to deal with you right now.”

After crying all night, I went to school to escape my heartlessness. I was talking in the hallway to some friends, when some random guy grabbed my backside. I jumped and he said, “What? Kyle said you were easy,” as he walked away laughing. Turning to my friends, they were all in stitches. I rushed to my comfort zone, the band room. No one was there to silence my thoughts nor give me a hug. I hoped Ben would come in the room and see my pain.

He finally did shortly before class was over and sat at a back table, as always, I went to give him a hug before I left. When he saw me, his arms opened, pulled me in and held me close. He protectively wrapped around me, cradling my head next to his heart. Ben stroked my hair and kept whispering, “Everything will be ok; I’m here.” I felt completely safe, and unconditionally loved. If I cried in front of my family, I was sent to my room. In front of my friends, I was ignored. With Ben, crying was ok for the first time. Ben’s arms held me tight until my tears subsided and I pulled away. Kissing the top of my head he said, “When you’re ready, let me know what happened.”

Later, I called him to let him know about the fight with my mom. I sheepishly admitted my failure. Beginning to tear up, I told him how perfect my siblings were and how I could never measure up to the academic standards they set for me. He asked my grade and I said, “Overall, B+. I can’t get all A’s and with my grades, I don’t think any college will accept me.”

“Jocy, I’ve never had straight A’s and I got into colleges,” he replied.

“Yeah, but you also play baseball. I am nothing but academics. I’m not even good at the one thing I do,” I said crying.

“Listen and don’t interrupt me. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You’re the funniest and sweetest person I’ve ever met. As for your mom, don’t listen to her. You’ll get in everywhere you apply because you are so smart. You pick up things much faster than anyone I know. You’ll get into college and do great,” he said.

As I finished crying, he asked if there was anything else. I told him a guy on the freshman baseball team was talking about me. Ben asked his name and when I told him, he said he’d take care of it.

The next day when Kyle stopped me in the hallway and apologized profusely in front of his teammates, I realized someone finally cared about me. Despite the grade difference between Ben and I, we still saw each other every day and became even closer. With him, hugs replaced hi’s. They weren’t the half-hearted side hugs, they were the holding-on-for-maybe-a-second-too-long hugs. He slowly found the real me, so when he graduated, I was sure the person he discovered would disappear too.

The day he left was the day I broke my own heart. When Ben left, he unknowingly ripped away the little self-confidence I stood on. My siblings laughed about how ridiculously hurt I was, mocking me about how Ben was completely out of my league. “Seriously Jocy, why are you so upset, it’s not like he liked you or anything. He was a senior and you’re a freshman. You aren’t the most attractive either, you should have known.” Trying to hide my tears, I pretended to yawn. “Great now you’re going to cry. This is why we don’t tell you the truth: you’re so sensitive. We’re just trying to help.” Running into my room, I locked the door. I heard my siblings laughing about what a ridiculous sister they had. Lying on the floor, I sobbed for hours. Abandoned, I tore myself apart. What were you thinking? One of the most popular guys in school never wanted you. How could he? He was voted “Biggest Flirt,” which essentially means every girl wants him. You were no more special than the next girl. Oh, that’s right you thought you were the smart, funny, and sweet one. More like the dumb, irritating, and boring, freshman. Thought you guys were “friends?” Guess again. Ceaselessly these thoughts and more ran through my mind.

After tearing myself apart again and again, I realized I had to tell Ben how I felt so I could end the pain and finally know how he felt about me. I thought I would get the closure I desperately needed. By telling him my feelings, however, that’s not what happened. We just started an entirely new type of relationship. Instead of an emotion-based friendship, it morphed into a physical-based relationship. I wasn’t sure this was what I wanted, but I was willing to take anything he would give me. One morning during the summer, he called me and invited me over. I went to his house, ready to be with the guy I’d dreamed about for so long. I was ready to risk my future, to be disowned from my family if I got pregnant. Ben showed me who I was; in turn, I was ready to give him anything in my power. I wanted to give him everything, but he cared for me more than I did for myself. Lying in his arms, he said, “I want to, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He drove me home and I crawled into my bed. Tears began flowing that wouldn’t stop. Of all the things Ben knew about me, he didn’t know he was my first everything. The first person to see me, the flaws, imperfections, and want me regardless; he was my first kiss, the first person I was ready to give myself to, completely. After that day, I wanted to talk to Ben, but his replies were a few sentences at most. Realization began to set in, I had set myself up once again to get hurt. I was at fault for all my pain and if I didn’t pick myself up, part of me would be gone forever.

Ben should not have abandoned me like he did, but without him, I wouldn’t have found my strength. Ben walked into my life when I needed someone to strip away everything I’d been hiding from and expose the real me. Overcoming family pressure and my own insecurities, I’m starting to find my own place. Instead of being another Wolverine or Spartan like my siblings, I broke off from tradition. Sitting in my genetics class at Grand Valley, I have finally found where I belong. My professor put up a slide of an individual affected with Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome on the projector. He then asked what gender the person was. Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome is when an individual is genetically a man, but looks like a woman. The kid next to me said, “Obviously, she’s a woman,” after looking at the lean body and developed breasts.

I raised my hand and said, “Genetically, he’s a male.”

“Correct. In this class, you will need to look at all aspects of my questions,” my professor answered.

Smiling to myself, I realized I would have never had the confidence to answer a question aloud, especially to a room composed of mostly upperclassmen. Ben gave me my confidence, but I don’t need him any longer. Our lives intertwined for years, and while I may hold only a few pages in his life, he has been the biggest chapter in mine. His chapter is over, but my story is just beginning. I will keep what Ben showed me close to my heart and finish the task he started for me.