How to ruin a friend’s self-esteem in 1 easy step
The key is to start early. I did. Also, PE class. That helps.
As a longtime friend of mine neared a milestone birthday, I was reminded of how I ruined his self-esteem for all-time. While my intentions were perfectly innocent, my actions were permanently scarring.
We met for the first time back in the fourth grade. Early on in our relationship, we had a formative moment, initiated by me.
We were in P.E. class, pushing around low-to-the-ground, wooden roller carts for God-knows-why. It was some combination of 1970s exercise and this’ll-keep-‘em-busy activity. I spotted (name redacted because he’s a grown-ass lawyer) and blurted, “Hey! You’ve got rolls!” Meaning, I noticed I was not the only somewhat chubby kid in the class — there was another one like me. We both had flabby little guts hanging over our gym shorts.
Wars have been started over less.
The grand illusion
In my innocence, it was a pure hey-we’re-the-same-I-thought-I-was-the-only-one moment of fourth grade friendship bonding. To him, it was a life-altering revelation. He had no clue up to that point that he was not body-beautiful. His parents had perhaps overshot a tad in building up his self-esteem — until that day in P.E. class.
I shattered that illusion right there. He was devastated, mortified and made aware of something (true though it was) he never wanted to know. You’re welcome, (name redacted)! Welcome to self-consciousness town, population: you, me and secretly almost everyone else.
You exceptions know who you are. We non-exceptions hate you. Forever and always.
That’s what friends are for
I didn’t know at the time what I had done. He has reminded me of it many times since. I ruined his childhood, I’m told. And his self-esteem from that point on. I’m also responsible whenever he loses his car keys and he still hates me for explaining to him that not all albums are chock full of hit songs, even though you spent your allowance money on them. That’s what friends are for.
Yes, one could argue that if his self-esteem could be so easily undone then it was going to happen anyway. I was just the random, unknowing assassin. And, of course, I would have been equally mortified had I been on the receiving end of some other dipshit blurting out the same truth-telling in P.E. class. But a 10-year-old mind doesn’t typically connect those dots before blurting.
That’s one benefit to getting older: We learn to shut up. At least some of us do. A little.
So yeah, we’re all vain and insecure. At middle age, we’re no less so. As it turns out, that battle of the bulge hasn’t gone away for either of us at this stage of life. If I need to shut him up, all I have to do is blurt, “You got rolls!” It stops him right in his tracks. He’ll laugh, because he gives as much as he takes when it comes to guy humor, but we both know he dies a little inside every time. Me too.
