Labels I Have Worn

I label people. You label people. We all label people and get labeled. It's inevitable. I have been labeled both correctly (pig, Christian, lazybum) and incorrectly (genius, anorexic, teacher's pet). Most of the correct labels I've welcomed and even encouraged. The incorrect one's generally get me pretty annoyed, even if some (ie. genius) may be seen as flattering. Here are three of the labels from my past, which are neither wholy correct or incorrect, but each very important.


JesusFreak
This was me in middle school. A full out 100% Jesus Freak. This is back when I lived in Jersey, fifth and sixth grade. I was marching to the beat of a different drum then the rest of my grade (save for Alex and Amanda who were JFing right there with me) and I was damn proud of it. With a WWJD bracelet around my wrist and Jesus' love in my heart, I was the continuous inviter of the masses to the after school group R.O.C. (Reach Out for Christ). I'd scrawl dcTalk lyrics in my notebooks and nothing made me happier than when someone would call me a JesusFreak. When everyone else was naming their favorite band as Blink182, I would proudly declare the Newsboys ("Oh, they're a Christian rock band. Yeah, Christian ROCK. Its awesome.") as mine. I had about 10 WWJD bracelets in assorted colors, I tried to use my F.R.O.G. (Fully Rely on God) pencil as much as possible, because shoving my believes through things like pencils and bracelets seemed like the best option at the time. I would debate with people (I can remember one girl asking me why I'd want to do what Jesus would do, why Jesus didn't want us to be our own person, and me trying to get through to her that Jesus always made the right decisions and we should decide as He did.). I'd have it out with my Catholic friends (of which there were many, even Alex was a Catholic) about their habit of praying to Mary. And for awhile, it worked beautifully for me. Amanda and I carried around metal crosses in our pockets, which we'd pull out during times of trouble (like the oh-so-endangering history test). I needed everyone to know I was a Christian and everyone did. And I was extremely satisfied with life. But with the move to Maine, I was tired of being constantly rejected and I didn't want the first impression everyone had of the new kid to be a bad one, a kid you avoid. So I can remember running one of my WWJD bracelets through my fingers as I got ready for the first day of school in Boothbay and then finally putting it away, deciding to live my faith in a quieter, less agressive way.
I still don't know if that was the right choice.

Bitch
This label was first pressed on me freshman year of high school, I believe. The two people who were then my best friends had stopped talking to me and started avoiding me and I had no idea why. After a lot of work, I pressed it out of one of them in an IM conversation.
"You were being a bitch."
Oh. Wow. Okay, so that hurts. And I was angry, not because of the label, but because they hadn't told me sooner. Now if anyone who wasn't around during that time of my life is ready this and thinking "Oh poor Ryn (or Kate or whatever you know me by)!", don't. Because they were right, I was being a bitch. I was pushing those kids around like they were my property. I was mean and nasty and bossy and abusive. But I genuinely didn't realize it was bothering them. I know, I'm an idiot, right? Yes. But now they'd told me and everything became so much clearer. It still was painful to realize that's who I was and while some of us may throw the word "bitch" around, there are few things more hurtful than when one of your friends labels you as thus and truly means it. So now that I had the label, I had to do something, right? Well I did lighten up on my friends a bit. But I was still me, so I still hit and snapped at people. Only now, I was the one to use the label "bitch". If I said it first, it had no power when other people said it. Normally if I used it on myself, people would come to my defense rather than agreeing with me. I think this was worst during freshmen and sophomore year. Maybe. After that I still wasn't happy-go-lucky, but I was just generally pessimistic instead of attacking individuals.

Pessimist
I cannot tell you how hard I fought this at the time. Voting for Senior Superlatives was going on and somehow my class had determined I should be the lucky girl labeled as Class Pessimist. Everytime I saw someone filling out their voting ballot, I would beg them not to put me as Pessimist. I didn't want it, didn't see myself as that. I even had my friend Wade right me undr the Optimist category hoping the two would cancel out. I had a campaign against my pessimistic label going and I lost.
And then I changed my mind. If they were going to label me as Class Pessimist, I would accept and embrace. I paid more attention to the words I used and realized they were pretty accurately labeling me anyway. I let them take my photo for the yearbook and then let them pay for their choice.
"Kate, why are you in such a bad mood?"
"Hey, you voted me class pessimist, I'm just trying to live up to the title."
I still use it as an excuse for my negativity at times. Its become part of me, despite my earlier fight. I don't mind it. I don't think I really am pessimistic, I do have good days, good friends and an overall good life. I just talk pessimistically and you know what? I love it.