Re: Confessions of a Former Mean Girl.

I am a reformed Mean Girl. I do not say this with any sort of pride nor regret. It’s just who I once was. I’m sure most of my friends, especially the ones who know me best or have known me the longest, will say I’m still very mean; this is true. I am still pretty mean, but I’ve learned to internalize this meanness, or at least only share it with the ones in my life who have become immune to it.

The height of my Mean Girl ways was in college. I had come out of high school having been a dork. With my pink hair and purple Doc Martens, I spent too much time in the art studios with my friend Cortney who only wore blue Doc Martens. My sister, who was two years behind me in school, was more well known than I was, and when she dated the popular boys in my grade, they were always surprised to find out that she had a sister in their grade.

When I got to college I became a DJ. I was one of only a few girl DJs at the radio station, and being part of the boys' club forced me to go above and beyond to be seen as something besides some lil' freshman girl in Belle and Sebastian tee-shirts. I grew a back bone, learned how to say and love the word 'cock' and became mean.

When I think about the things I said and did to people, to their faces mind you, it almost pains me. My level of cruelty had no limit. I’d hone in on certain people and harass them to no end, I’d tell the victims of my cruelty that they were ugly and useless. I'd start rumors about penis sizes, STDs, and had a bunch of pornography mailed to someone's house. I was always getting in trouble for the offensive emails I would send out to the radio station membership where I’d belittle or degrade certain people. And forget it if I had a few drinks in me…

My mother says I have an acid tongue; and this is something on which I’ve had to work. I still hurt the people closest to me too often, because I’m just naturally a lil' on the evil side. I don’t just drive a proverbial dagger into their hearts, but I twist and pour on the salt, and not just normal salt, but that big salt like you get on one of those soft pretzels from the vendor. And I’ll be the first one to admit that being mean can actually be kinda fun...sorry, but it is.

The Mean Girls in this office remind me of myself, that’s why I both hate them, but also have a soft spot in my cold heart for them. I know they talk shit about me every time I walk past them, and that’s why I call them out on it…if more people had called me out on it, I probably would have quit being such a shit a long time ago.

So let’s start the confessions, shall we? We’ve all been mean at some point, so let’s just get it out in the open. I'm sure even the sweetest of you has been mean at least once in your life...

Here's an example from my past:

When I lived in the dorms, I broke into a bedroom down the hall that belonged to some crazy Christian fanatic, stole all her Christmas decorations, then hauled them out to the quad in front of the building and left them there in a pile of snow. I also was sure to leave her a note that said, “God is Dead.” I was put on probation for this antic…something I managed to keep from my parents.

Whoo...and that's not even the worst of it...that's just something I'm willing admit to...so go ahead, confess that you've been mean, too. It feels good to confess. I promise.

xo.Mandy.