I’m not sure who officially coined the term “second hand embarrassment,” but it’s a phrase my sister and I use frequently. Most commonly while watching the Bachelor/Bachelorette. It refers to watching someone make such a fool of themselves that you actually feel their embarrassment as if it were your own.
Well, a few weeks ago while moving and packing some totes, I ran across a few old diaries. I am talking 1999-2000 era. Also known as possibly the most awkward years of my life. I started sending some entries to my sister, and I told her that I felt like I was having second hand embarrassment. Except not. Because it was me.
After getting past the fact that I am (hopefully) currently nothing like my 12 year old self, I decided I can move on and take one for the team. Well, my team. Just… me. So luckily for all of you, I have an arsenal of these diary excerpts. Without further ado, Part I of the Second Hand Embarrassment series:
Alright.. March of 2000. Thank goodness I let my diary know what I had for breakfast. And everyone, for future reference, FT is french toast.
I think I need to address me “dumping” my 6th grade boyfriend. I am almost certain we didn’t actually speak to each other in real life at the time. I wish I would have gone into more detail about the “dumping.” Did I pass a note? Did I send a message via a girlfriend? Did I scream that I was tired of being treated like private property during recess? God only knows. And… the nerve of these 6th grade boys thinking we “R” their (quick round of applause for me using the correct form of their as a 6th grader… since many people still do not have that skill) property! But seriously. What could have constituted this? I did watch a lot of trashy dating shows. It only makes sense that it would translate into my own life, obviously.
Also, this 3 year relationship must have been pretty serious. Especially since it started in 3rd grade.
Lastly, can we appreciate that I illustrated an eyeball in place of simply writing the word ‘I’? I must have had a lot of free time on my hands. Young Gina, don’t worry, you will get sick of Jr. High too. And high school. And college. And working. Toughen up!
Until next time.