Who Annie was.
For a long time during my childhood I was known by all as ‘Annie’. The name on my birth certificate is Anne. But somehow my family cuteified it and I was called Annie by all. I remember that I stopped going by Annie when I moved to my second primary school. I believe I made this change due to the fact that Annie rhymed with another nickname commonly given to a part of female anatomy. Kids where cruel. I was popular enough at my first primary school, the class clown, the leader of her friend group. Friends with all the older kids and a lot smarter than most my age (I’ve always been ahead of my age group) I saught the company of the older kids that talked about freedom and escaping our small town into something bigger. All the kids my age only cared about barbie dolls and earings.
When I moved to my second primary school I was the outsider. I knew no one and no one knew me. That school was full of bullies and groups of kids that where all closely related. I was an outsider and I stayed one until I left.
I have been playing with the idea, that I might have been two people.
Annie, at my first primary school. Where I was a leader not a leper. I had stuff going on at home, but at school it all melted away because I had friends and I was as happy Puppy with a role of loo paper.
Then I started at a different school and I became Anne. The one who didn’t have a gameboy but was the only 9 year old with a mobile phone.
The girl who knew no one and wasn’t related to any of the teachers. The one who couldn’t afford the school uniform and who’s mother didn’t do the washing. I became the broken kid from a broken place and kids where cruel. That primary school was crap to be blunt. The teachers hated me because here I wasn’t ‘funny’ I was disruptive and annoying. I wasn’t friends with the older kids I was picked on for doing the same work as them. Eventually I stopped doing extra work because then I didn’t have to spend time with them. I somehow have been two completely different people at two different primary schools.
For some reason I hate being called Annie now. I think it’s because it isn’t who I am anymore. Annie was happy and confident and cool and smart and kind of a kick ass kid. But for some reason, probably because of how helpless she was, now the name Annie makes me feel weak. It feels peculiar in my head if I think of myself as Annie.
My family still refers to me as Annie, sometimes it really bugs me and sometimes I couldn’t care less. Sometimes I like it.
I’ve been playing around with using Annie as a pet/nickname for myself again. For some reason I feel like it’s a bit artier than Anne. It doesn’t seem as sharp around the edges and I miss being that kid at my first primary school. The one who believed she was awesome. I think maybe one of the points in this blog is that I’m trying to find who I was when I was her. I was bubbly and happy and I loved waking up in the morning. I was constantly doing something and never wanted to go to bed.
I think I want to find that girl again. The one who didn’t care what others thought. The cheeky one that made kids laugh so hard they pee.
So I have a new mission. To try and incorperate those things into who I am now. I need to have more fun. Be more out there. More confident and more alive.