I'm introverted, unsure, lacking in self-confidence. I'm overweight (not big boned as my mom would often tell me). The pimples, glasses and braces didn't do much to help with my self-esteem either. Looking back I see that I wasn't alone in feeling like a social outcast, but at the time I felt like the only awkward, geeky girl.
By this time I moved 9 times, lived in three different states and three different countries, if you count Puerto Rico as a country. My freshman and sophomore year, we lived in Esfahan, Iran. The first month there I cried almost every day, but I came to love the land and most of the people and I cried like a baby the day we left. The political climate there was such that I knew the likelihood of me ever going back would be very, very slim.
The older I got the harder it was for me to fit in. I had no idea how to control my curly mane and I was horribly shy so I ate for comfort, gaining weight and pimples as my reward. If not for our extended family or my first job, I probably would have been in more despair. In Iran I had countless friends, in California, I could count them in one hand. If I had tried a little more, gotten a little more involved, I know now that would have changed. Luckily for me I was about to leave my teen years behind.