Approaching senior year. The best year of your life, or so the classic 80s movies had told me. So to get the beginning of the story started, I just moved from Gricignano di Aversa, Italy, as it was the end of our military tour there. That was our home for almost three years, all of my high school, until now. The flight was on my birthday, May 27th, 2017… I turned 17 above Spain. The summer had very few ups, majority of the time we were trying to recover from being stripped of our home, and trying to make this home the same. However, the only thing I remembered vividly was everytime we went to the #1 American Empire, TARGET, I would always see the “3 in. Blue Floral Ankle Boot; Merona.” The whole summer I checked everytime we went to see if they were there. These boots to me were a gift from God. The whole month before school started I had them on the back of my mind. I think the week or two before school started, I convinced myself that I have to have them. So, I made the mistake of mustering up the courage to try them on… they felt like driving a new car. This was my ferrari. My parents bought them for me after seeing my confidence when looking at the mirror. I didn’t know then that “3 in. Blue Floral Ankle Boot; Merona” was the start of an obsession. Before this, I only wore boots and leather jackets because that was what I was surrounded with, I never was hugely eccentric before, I just wore what I saw on the street. I didn’t know that clothing and shoes would be how I barricaded myself from my new classmates. However, I gained something, and it wasn’t just a couple of inches.
My First Day of School
As my first day of school loomed onto us, I felt a little bit better with the ankle boots, so the night before I calculated my outfit: gray sleeveless sweater, blue jeans and the ankle boots. I didn’t know then that I had to shield myself. This was the first time I went to an “American, American” high school, and when I walked in I was bombarded with sweatpants and screaming kids. I looked down at my schedule, already defeated by the wave of teen angst and thinking to myself, “I am overdressed.” The whole day was kind of a blur, I only remember bits and pieces. However, my last class was very vivid. I was assigned a seat in the back of class with this man carved by the God himself. Oh, by the way, sidenote: I got a thing for blonde, blue eyed and clean shaven men, and he was all of that. He would look at me a couple of times because I was the new kid, and everyone is intrigued with the new kid. Then, I opened my mouth. All they saw written on my head was “Foreign.” A couple of the girls pestered and prodded at me like I was an object and tried to drag me down to their level by saying, “I’m Italian too, yah know” in a way saying “you’re not that special.” They were sweet girls but “Foreign” got in the way. It just got worse from then. I had one friend, a military kid that lived in Hawaii her whole life and was on the same boat as me. We were each other’s crutch. We still are. It slowly got worse for the both of us. I defended myself with the ankle boots, and any cool jacket I could find, along with some red lipstick. But it all changed with the event that maimed me at this school.
The Event: Nov. 11, 2017
It was a CPR training class. It was required to graduate. We were learning how to apply a tourniquet. Just so you know, a tourniquet is a little torture device to cut off your blood flow. Lovely. All I could remember was “The blood flow will completely… (three)… it is very important to… (two)… another way…(one)—”I tasted blood. Lights out. I fainted. I heard the screaming of chairs and desks as everyone barricaded themselves away from me. The class didn’t try to help me, the girls mocked me, the man carved by the God was there, he never talked to me after that. Everything came crashing down after. I was thankful for that one teacher that helped me. To make myself feel better I bought “3 in. Maroon Knee High Boot; Unisa” to build the first wall in order to forget about “The Event.” I was even more isolated than before, my new words were “The Girl Who Fainted.” See, before then I was a threat to the girls and now that I was maimed from “The Event.” They didn’t feel pity for me, they just felt indifference and decided to ignore me entirely.
The Barricade
I bought “4 in. heel Gold Buttons Stiletto; Enzo Angiolini” to build the second wall to shield myself from cold remarks. I bought “3.5 in. heel Dark Blue Floral Ankle Boot; Vince Camuto” to build the third wall to boost my confidence. I bought over 12 different european jackets along with “4 in. heel Black Ruffles stiletto; Louise et Cie” and “4.5in heel Pink stiletto; Prada” to build the final wall to make myself feel above these people. As the inches got higher, I got mocked and examined more, and I combated it with more shoes and jackets. I created a different side of me that I didn’t realize till after graduation. I soon became okay with being heavily armed. The girls would stop and hold their fire and just look at me, the men entirely stopped talking to me. In a way my clothes and shoes became a friend to me. Everytime I would get some cold isolation or even a look, I just look down and see a little glimmer of happiness, they would help me keep going in school. However, I felt lucky to have my family and friend there.
Prom and Graduation
I wasn’t happy towards the end. Neither was my friend. We only talked to each other at school, and we went to prom together. It was a little glimmer of happiness the whole year gave me. I had on my “4 in. heel Red Floral stiletto; Betsy Johnson” and a Dark Green mermaid gown. We were each other’s dates since no guys asked. It was fun overall. I danced majority of the night in my shoes, because I didn’t want to lay them on the pile of women’s shoes in the corners, since they reeked of the night passing by. I got the usual looks but neither of the girls decided to throw their grenades that day. Two days after, it was graduation. I was excited, I had my “4 in. heel Black Ruffles stiletto; Louise et Cie” and a denim dress, I genuinely felt good about myself. I hadn’t felt that since I left Italy. I thought about Italy when I was seated in the seats full of faces I didn’t know, hearing speeches that only people that truly went to this school understood. That was when I knew I shielded myself so much that I couldn’t see outside the barricade of stilettos.