SHORT:
When I was younger, I came home and cried to my parents about how “my name wasn’t Jewish”. The kids at Jewish Day School had been teasing me.
My parents inhaled, looked at one another, and slowly explained my father’s conversion. He was raised Catholic but converted to Judaism before I was born– “and that’s why you’re Jewish with the last name Pope.”
After they finished, I explained that people were actually teasing me about the name “Megan”. My parents laughed and were like “oh yeah the name Megan isn’t Jewish, it’s Irish as fuck.”
LONG:
Sometimes I stay up late and watch videos of myself as a girl. I look at my winged eyeliner and long hair and wonder if I should’ve stayed beautiful.
I went to prom with a boy who smelled like mint-watermelon gum. He exhaled down the back of my neck as we danced, sticking a boney leg between mine so he could properly grind up against me. We kissed in front of the whole school. I remember feeling the heat of people’s squints and smiles as we made-out on the dance floor. I was in a purple, one-shouldered dress. Spandex and a tight strapless bra beneath. 6 floors up in a hotel.
Earlier that day, my mom and I fought over whether I should wear my hair up or down to the event. I cried. I called my friend Audrey and she said “up” so I wore it up.
I did not enjoy being a girl, but there were times I felt very powerful.
When I arrived at pre-Prom, my date saw me and said “wow”. I stared at his upper lip and gelled hair. I was struck with a strange guilt that made me want to melt into the patio stones.
We took photos. I looked at all my classmates and their dates. Hands intertwined and noses close to one another’s. Parents fawned over everyone. I begged myself to relax.
You look good, you look fine, you’re going to prom and going to have a good time.
I ate all my food. The hotel ravioli and chicken that they served at the event. I wondered if there was going to be any dessert. I wondered if it would be weird if I asked.
A group of girls said they were going to an after party. They told us to meet them there.
My date drove me across town. We parked outside the house, sitting in silence and staring down the barrel of the dark, wooded lane as we waited for the girls.
I texted them. No response.
My date moved into the back seat.
I texted them again.
The girls never arrived. I later found out that they ended up going to In-N-Out Burger and decided to stay there for the rest of the night, which honestly, I respect.
I moved into the backseat and my date felt me up. I wondered if we were ever going to leave the car. Eventually, his phone buzzed. He told me that he had to go home to make his curfew. I told him to “please totally do that” and slid out of the vehicle.
I sat down on the curb– prom dress in hand, shivering in my spandex. He pulled out of the parking space. My breathing steadied as I watched his tail lights get smaller and smaller.
I didn’t understand why I was so stressed out. This kind of shit is supposed to set your soul on fire! Quicken your heartbeat in a good way! Live a little, bitch! For once!
On Monday I had choir first period and people had a million questions about me and the boy. I ran my hands through my hair and smiled. Answered with a few anxious “yeah’s”. I opened my folder and began the vocal warm ups. Auditioned for the choral solo. I got the part.
I kept getting parts... featured solos, duets, and roles in the school musical. I’d sing out, my body warm and excited. Both humiliated and overjoyed. I felt like I was expelling something. Filling up and letting go. Full of heat and water and new, undeniably good space.
Sometimes I stay up late and watch videos of myself singing. I listen to my voice ring out across the high school auditorium. I am sad and happy and deeply proud of that girl. I did not enjoy being her, but I miss her dearly. I really do.
I want to give her a hug, but she’d run away. She won’t let people hug her until college, and even then, she’ll flounder between their arms.
She’ll keep straightening her hair, and crying, and calling her friends for advice on girl-things for quite a while.
She’ll never buy mint-watermelon gum ever again. She’ll donate her strapless bras.
She’ll sing to herself and wonder what it would’ve been like to go to In-N-Out instead of quietly moving about a dimly-lit back seat.
She’ll think about what it would’ve been like to be the boy. A boy. On that night in the car, did he feel beautiful?
EXTRA:
The week before that same Prom, my date texted me and asked if I wanted to get pancakes at a place called Stacks. Here’s the thing? I fucking LOVE Stacks. I will go to Stacks with anyone for anyone. I drove my little ass over to his house. I was wearing a very dykey pink PacSun button-up and jeans. When I got there, he showed me around. Took me to the backyard. Had me watch him do trampoline tricks on their in-ground trampoline for 45 minutes.
Then we went to his room, and he fumbled with my shirt. Before we did much, his grandfather pulled into the driveway. I jumped up and frantically made myself look presentable.
We went into the kitchen and talked to his grandfather and I asked if the boy wanted to go get pancakes now and he said he-actually-wasn’t-hungry-but-if-I-was-hungry-there-were-his-mom’s-Yoplaits-in-the-fridge. I left with a strawberry Yoplait, stuck it in the cupholder of my car, and drove home.
The next day I went to Stacks by myself and had an incredible time.
Did you enjoy this? Did you hate this? Do you have topics you want me to write about or advice questions you want me to try and answer (lol) Should I be funnier? Should I be more emo? Should I try harder to sound like a fancy writer or just chill?
Let me know! I truly want to hear all your thoughts!
-Meg
Social- @megspope@mpopetweets
Venmo- @mpope-venmo-26
Website- meganpopework.com
Donate to The Audre Lorde Project
Song Of The Week: So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings, Caroline Polachek
Thought Of The Week: The SNL basketball sketch should’ve been all about lesbians trying to get into the Wubble.
Project Of The Week: To demonstrate how spiritually sick I am, I compiled all 130+ thirst trap parodies I have done since march and put them [here]. Read more about the project here.
Confession Of The Week:
