I know you thought your whispers were harmless, but I heard you loud and clear. College life can be wild, and I get that you were trying to impress each other. But what you didn’t realize was how deeply your words could wound someone you didn’t even know. When you remarked, “Look at her checking out workout clothes. She probably doesn’t even know what a gym is!” it stung more than you could imagine.
That moment was about three years and 50 pounds ago, yet the shame still flashes across my face when I remember it. When I turned around, you realized I was much older than your initial assumption. I could see you thinking I was just someone’s mom shopping for a daughter.
What you didn’t see was that I was actually shopping for myself. I’d decided to return to college in my late 30s to complete my bachelor’s degree—an intimidating leap off a cliff. You didn’t know I spent 20 minutes in my car each day, gathering the courage to face a classroom filled with younger students. My marriage was on the rocks, and I felt utterly lost, especially when my 3-year-old son refused to potty train, forcing me to rush to school to change him because his Catholic school couldn’t help. You had no idea I was stress-eating to cope with my struggles, or that I was eyeing those sweatpants because the jeans I wore that day were causing a rash around my waistband. I spent my last $20 just to find a bit of comfort.
Your judgment pushed my already fragile self-esteem even lower and made me retreat further into my shell at a time when I was desperately trying to rebuild myself. Your careless words shattered what little strength I was hanging onto during the darkest phase of my life.
But despite your unkind remarks, I persevered. I showed up at that school every single day for four semesters and, eventually, I graduated. I survived my marriage ending and managed to get my son potty trained before winter break. At 37, I made the Dean’s List and graduated with my bachelor’s degree at 38. And yes, I lost those 50 pounds, which means those sweatpants—now tied at the waistband to keep them up—fit differently now. I still wear them around the house and even sleep in them on cold nights. They have our school’s name emblazoned in pink down the side.
I know you didn’t think I could hear you, but now, every time I put on those sweatpants, I reflect on how far I’ve come since that day. I often wonder how much sooner I could have healed if you had simply bought your books and moved on.
Before you speak words you think are private, consider how you’d feel if they were directed at you. Remember, when overhearing someone else’s thoughts, that they might be facing battles you can’t even imagine. Have we become so accustomed to our screens that we’ve forgotten we are encountering real people with their own stories and struggles?
To the guys in the bookstore: I hope your lives are smoother than the last few years of mine, but if you find yourself in tough times, may you meet those who uplift you and remind you that you are worth more than your current situation. We owe each other that bit of humanity.
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Summary:
The author reflects on a hurtful experience in a college bookstore, where young men made unkind remarks about her appearance. She shares her journey of returning to college in her late 30s while dealing with personal challenges, ultimately finding empowerment and success despite their judgment. The piece emphasizes the importance of kindness and understanding toward others.