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The opposite of cool

I graduated from high school 30 years ago this year. I was never a cool kid. I was mostly invisible to everyone. I wasn’t bullied or anything like that, I just wasn’t acknowledged.

On Facebook, there are a group of people planning an unofficial reunion to be held at someone’s house. I wasn’t invited, but because I’m friends with people who were, I get to see the post about it. Funny how 30 years later, it still kind of hurts. I wouldn’t go even if I was invited, but still.

What exactly is being considered at success? A high paying job, fancy house, kids, travel? I’ve been married 21 years (so many of them are divorced). We own our house (it’s not mortgaged). I couldn’t have kids. And we’re broke as hell, but we’re happy.

Like I said, I wouldn’t have gone anyway. I don’t have anything in common with them except for attending the same school. I rarely drink, and I don’t party. I’m an introvert, so I probably wouldn’t talk to anyone anyway.

I don’t have the things people count as being successful, but that doesn’t matter. I have a husband I love dearly, and a good marriage. I have a home. I don’t need the approval of snobby people to feel better about myself. And yet, it is still painful to be reminded that I was never cool. I’m the opposite of cool.

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