I was never one of those girls who strutted down the hallway with an army of minions and picked on new girls just because I had never seen them before (does that girl even exist? Like, at ANY high school?).

My brand of Mean Girl was more subtle. Wittier. I never snapped at anyone who didn't snap at me first. I was the Veronica Sawyer in a school full of Heathers. But that didn't make it okay.

It started when I moved schools in fifth grade. I was a whopping five feet tall already, fitting comfortably into a C-Cup, and boasted glasses so thick they didn't even fit into my ultra-stylish wire frames. Needless to say, I was tragically awkward. And unfortunately for me, it was tragically noticeable. This bothered my classmates very much. Hopefully by now they've learned to accept that women have breasts, because in 2007 they really could not stand it. And even though my development was something I had no control over, it bothered me to think that they had the power to make uncomfortable in my own skin. Armed with nothing but my inherent snark and an arsenal of books about mean girls, my tongue became sharper and sharper. It didn't matter how embarrassed I was that I towered over all of the boys, because if anyone brought it up, I always had a clapback. My heart would swell with pride when their mouths clamped shut, but that didn't mean I didn't lay awake at night wondering why I couldn't just look like the other girls. Why couldn't I still be an A cup? Why couldn't my hair have just been straight? It didn't seem fair. I felt like I had "won" when I lashed out in the moment, but the more my insecurities piled up, the meaner I felt like I had to be.

I think every kid ends up on both sides of the bullying dynamic whether they ever realize it or not. Your mom probably tells you when you're being bullied, "Oh, honey they're just insecure!" and let this be the first of many realizations that yeah....she was totally right. Adolescence is just one big game of Deflect From My Own Insecurities By Pointing Out Everyone Else's. Whatshername from high school probably mocked me for wearing lipstick in 9th grade because I had the confidence to wear it, and truthfully I told her she should join me in the bathroom and fix her stringy hair because ACTUALLY SHE HAD THE EXACT HEAD OF SHINY, STRAIGHT, VOLUMPTUOUS HAIR I HAD BEEN BEGGING GOD FOR SINCE I LEARNED TO GRASP LANGUAGE AND HIGHER SPIRITUAL ENTITIES. I'd size girls up long before they even had a chance to hurt me. Were her thighs too big? Check. Acne? Check. Unibrow? Check. Obviously terrified that her boyfriend was going to leave her? Check. It was like I had a radar for what was "wrong" with other girls, and I'd stockpile everything I found for whenever they threatened me. My insecurities were so deeply buried, the insults just became second nature to me. If I needed to establish a power dynamic, I did so effortlessly. I felt like saying whatever I needed to say to make everyone else feel inadequate was the only way I could protect myself.

It's easy to say mean girls in movies are exaggerated, and they are. But if we have learned anything from English Lit it should have been that literature is always reflects human nature. I don't know about y'all, but I saw myself in Blair Waldorf when the guy I liked went for the wispy and flawless blonde instead of me, the neurotic brunette. Raise your hand if you've ever been personally victimized by three pounds like our girl Regina George because...same. And even though the themes of Grease are hardly one if most admirable qualities, how can you not relate to Rizzo, who lamented caring what everyone thinks when her entire brand was Not Caring What Everyone Thinks? Even Chanel Oberlin just wants boys to liker her. "Winning" at adolescence is feigning as much power and perfection as you possibly can, however you can. Some of us lash out, some of us cry, some of us take it silently and wait for it to rear its ugly head in adulthood, and others, the lucky few, genuinely aren't bothered.

Now that I'm older, I wish I had done it all differently. I love my hair now. I have contacts, but I don't wear them because glasses are totally hot right now. I discovered that 5'4", contrary to what my elementary school classmates thought, is NOT as tall as Godzilla. All those temporary things I lost sleep over don't even matter all these years later, but I'm sad to say I deepened insecurities for other people when I KNEW what it was like to go home with a broken heart for being you. I can't ever take that back, but I can do better.

To those I ever hurt with my words: I'm so sorry. To the girls, getting torn down: stay strong. Don't stoop to their level. If you don't believe your mother when she tells you that you'll come out on top, then believe me. And to the mean girls: whether you are recovering or still being mean, you are better than this. I hope you know it's never too late to turn it all around.