Peer pressure. I think peer pressure is at it’s worst in middle school. I not only lived through that labyrinth myself, I observed it for ten years as an employee of a public middle school. I attended middle school in the late 1970’s, a time af great social change and national insecurity. But middle school was still middle school.
One outgrowth of that period in history was a move toward a more casual society. Whereas, previous generations dressed up to go to school, my generation was wearing jeans. (When I worked in the middle school the slide continued and some kids even wore pajamas!) My mom, as a member of the previous generation, was resolute for a long time that I would not be allowed to wear jeans to school. I not only had to wear skirts, but knee socks with skirts! I was already a shy and awkward girl who loved reading and actually liked school. This put me in the lowest social strata, but dressing like an old lady sunk my social standing even further. All I wanted was to fit in and maybe even be accepted by at lease one cool kid, or even gain a notice from the cutest, coolest boy in homeroom. I pleaded with my mom and, eventually, I was allowed to wear jeans. My relaxed wardrobe didn’t garner any cool-kid friends, but at least I could blend in with the crowd and was less of a target for ridicule. My pressure to be a “peer” was reduced and my need for acceptance was quieted, temporarily.
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You’ve left the room, but the argument is not over. Your thoughts are stuck in a loop. The same hurtful exchange of words flashes across your mind over and over and over. You can’t seem to reset your inner replay. All the emotions that should have stayed in that room follow you everywhere you go. Hurt and anger continue to shout in your ears. Your heart rate is through the roof. Hot anger rises in your flushed face. The war is far from over.
Your inner screening room then begins playing out possible outcomes for a future exchange. You don’t really know what will happen, but your mind is already strategizing your next offensive in the war of words. Your emotions rise and fall with every imagined interaction. When you hurl an imagined barb at your intended target proud and triumphant vindictiveness rises to the surface. You feel all the emotions of a situation that hasn’t really happened and then you carry that resentment into the next conversation which turns into another altercation. Your emotions have become attached to an unreality. Nothing actually happened before you walked into the room. Do you truly want to spend your emotional energy on something that isn’t even real?