In high school, I was well known for being a good girl. I never drank. I never snuck out of the house. I never failed a class, ran away with a boy my parents hated or even so much as missed curfew. And if I had, nobody would have believed it.
The days of my youth were spent in a routine of doing things a good girl does. My weekdays were filled with homework, tennis practice and family dinners. I rented movies with my small group of friends on Friday nights, worked at the local jewelry store on Saturdays and went to church on Sundays. Despite consciously doing my best to stay on the straight and narrow, I never really considered myself a “goody two-shoes.” I liked my life, however boring and dull it may have seemed to others. I wasn’t resisting teenage angst for the glory of being a good kid; I just preferred my life to be free of troubles that could have been avoided.
It wasn’t until I got to college that I realized I was actually the epitome of the goody two-shoes label that I'd always resisted.
I remember the first few weeks of hanging around my new dorm and hearing stories of kids doing things I would never have dreamed of in high school. They smoked weed between classes, hooked up with entire sports teams-worth of guys and showed up hammered to prom. And it wasn’t just one person who did these things that were so foreign to me; most people had at least a few stories of being drunk at a high school party or sneaking out to meet a guy their parents didn’t approve of.
I felt self conscious that the only rebellious thing I’d ever done was attempt to sneak into an R-rated movie during my junior year. (I call it an "attempt" because I chickened out when I got up to the counter.) When everyone else would exchange wild stories, I’d just laugh along and hope nobody noticed that I wasn’t adding anything to the conversation.
Almost two years into my college career, I still have the good girl reputation. Sure, I’ve loosened up a little bit in my time here, but I’m still a goody two-shoes at heart, and it’s something I’ve come to love about myself. Instead of expecting a hookup, the guys in my life respect me. I’m not the girl they reach out to when they’re lonely on a Friday night; I’m the girl they reach out to when they need help sewing a tear in their jacket or want to watch an episode of "Friends."
I still say no to drugs, I still strive for good grades and I still call home every few days to catch up and remind my family that I love them. I’m proud that I am someone my little cousins can look up to. I’m proud that my mom can’t stop talking about me to her friends. I’m proud that I am a good girl and always will be.
They say having a reputation is a bad thing, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
