What are you still salty about?

[AmberTurnerCo]

Years later

I would not getting a wagon wheel in year 5 over 18 years ago.

I have millions of them, in fact my DH is often telling me to ‘Elsa it’ (let it go) 😊. One of the earliest was before I started school and my big sister must have been 4 or 5. My Mum had baked a cake and there was a bite marked piece missing from it. My Mum asked which of us had done it (I knew nothing about it). My DSis said it wasn’t her and then started crying. My Mum then decided it must be me as it couldn’t possibly be my DSis as she was crying??? My Mum never did have the best logic. I continued to say it wasn’t me. She eventually walked off angrily saying it must have been a mouse then. Not being very old I thought it was a mouse. It was years later I realised it must have been my sister. Neither my Mum or DSis can remember the event. The injustice of being accused of something I didn’t do made the memory stay with me around 35 years later.

My family emigrated and left me behind,
I was a teenager and they were moving to an area that wasn’t for teenagers.
They sold up went and had an amazing life, but took everything I knew
With them.
When I had my daughter, their first grandchild they couldn’t come over didn’t meet her till she was 9 months. I just felt hung out to dry
They were so detached which in turn has made very possessive with my
Daughter I know I do it and I back off straight away but I just always wanted a family that calls
In to see you daft
I know

A friend (who still is) who was angry I called off a meet-up as I was exhausted. I was told to 'get a life'. This was about 6 months after cancer treatment. I can sort of forgive but not forget.

Best friend in preschool (!) said that the teacher didn’t really want me to be Mary because my hair wasn’t straight (like her poker straight ash blonde hair- mine was strawberry blonde ringlets) and my baby Jesus was ugly. The next day she said they were switching my role with hers (sheep) because I would be better at the back.
Cue lots of tears.
Teachers told me it was fibs because she was jealous and I was going to be a wonderful Mary. But also said they wouldn’t tell my friend off because she might not want to be in the play at all.
The friend then told her mum who told my mum that I was being mean and showing off that I got the better part- so I got in trouble! All our friends then refused to sit with me at singing time so they could look after the other girl.

FYI it was the better part because she was a bitch- then and through our teenage years (big time!)- my doll and I were fabulous.

Bitch year 4 teacher.
There was a girl in our class who was leaving, apparently at playtime some kids were being mean and chanting "let's have a party, Gemma's leaving". The first I heard about this was when we were back in the classroom, waiting for the teacher to arrive back, and Gemma went around the classroom telling the story and choosing who she was going to tell on or let off. She proceeded to donk me on the head and declared that I was one of them. So then I had to stand at the front of the class and apologise for something I wasn't even there for. Teacher didn't believe me.
That teacher was an utter cow who hit kids over the head with books , partly her fault for not listening, but still:
Fuck you, Gemma Brett, no wonder they were glad that you were leaving.

Same teacher made me write an 'essay' about why not to kick the ball over the fence, it was a fucking accident and I didn't even know what as essay was. She ripped said essay up in front of me when I was done without even reading a word.

God I hate her so much, she's most likely dead now (25 years ago).

I'm also bitter that my mum allowed a police woman to lecture me about how selfish or stupid or horrible I was after I returned home after running away with the intention of killing myself. I was currently in treatment for severe depression. Made me think I should have done the job.

Reception class 1987. Everyone got to go out to the library in groups of three to make jam sandwiches With a nice old lady, eat the sandwich and then come back to class. At the end of the afternoon I asked my teacher when it was my turn and she said don’t be greedy bio you’ve had your turn. I said I hadn’t and she called me a liar which made me cry. I had to then sit in the corner facing the wall.

Later in the year (same teacher) took the class to the local green grocer. We were asked to chose a fruit or Vegetable to take back to school, draw then eat. Another girl wasn’t listening and chose a cauliflower. When she realised we’d be eating what we chose she pinched my orange and gave me the cauliflower. The teacher saw my crying (again) and said it was tough I should have chosen better. She knew I chose an orange because I’d shown her it before we left the shop. When my grandad came to collect me I burst into tears and told him what happened. He told the teacher she was a bully and when she asked him to leave he said not before he takes the bloody cauliflower home for tea haha

Some of these are so sad
for those of you who deserve to be a bit more than salty

I did my friend's French homework - she got a higher mark than me, and I never could say, else we'd both be in trouble - 36 years ago.

I took the blame for my friend wanting to go and play squash in the evening, we were going (I am the least sporty person in the world), but her Dad believed she was meeting a boy which she wasn't! 35 years ago.

@NeedToKnow101

We made Father Xmas mobiles in reception class. Mine was made perfectly, hanged just right and no smeary glue marks. On the last day of term another kid took mine and I was left with a rubbish, wonky, glue-smeared one. I was devastated, and that the teacher and my mum even considered that I had made that one made me furious.

Oh no Needtoknow101 that is tragic! I feel your pain. I made a butterfly in reception class (paint one side, fold paper in half, squish down, teacher cut it into a butterfly shape) they were on the wall all year. I loved looking at mine, but at the end of the year when we all handed back our beautiful masterpieces mine wasn't there! I cried. Thankfully I had a wonderful understanding teacher who gave me a green, flower shaped soap instead to cheer me up. I still have that soap in my sock drawer 😁

Was very good at English as a young child (went on to complete an English Language and Lit degree as an adult). My primary school teacher used to scrawl across my stories " use your OWN words" and " don't copy from books" etc, ad nauseum on any work that I submitted. It was extremely galling knowing that they were my own original stories in my own words. Cow.

Was part of a dance group in primary school, there was one girl (a total bullying cow) who took dancing lessons and though she was the bees knees, the dance teacher loved her. We were doing an Ancient Egyptian themed dance and told to make costumes. Being very crafty I made an elaborate Egyptian collar from gold cardboard and sticky gems, with matching arm cuffs etc. When we did the dress rehearsal, the dance teacher decided that my costume was too good for me and gave it to the other student because she was the 'star' and deserved a better costume! Had to wear some other piece of crap while she danced around in my costume.

Was bullied a fair bit in Secondary school. Was attacked one night by the two main 'bitches' who were responsible for making my life hell. Had to tell my parents, who contacted the school. We had to meet with the deputy head who obviously couldn't give a shit and called me by the wrong name through the whole meeting despite me saying several times " actually, my name is XXX". Was told to make up with the girls! Then forced to sit beside one of them in my English class for the rest of the year.

When I was about 10 I set up a small library lending out books to my friends with cards. When my DM found out she literally threw me down the stairs and a note was sent to school excluding me from games so they would not have seen the bruises. I still feel very aggrieved to this day.

My mother kept me really short of money all through university (did medicine so not able to work as well) and took board off me when I worked in the holidays. My brother had money thrown at him every time he threatened to quit his course and never paid board despite having a lucrative part time job and much longer holidays.

Dd3 has a bladder condition which meant she needed overnight nappies for a long time. A supposed friend came for a sleepover and realised this despite our discretion. She then posted it on social media, utterly humiliating DD who ended up having to leave that school because of the consequent bullying. That one still makes me cry.

I have to NC for this. My sister would definitely recognize this story as I've never let her forget it and still remind her on the odd occasion.

When we were younger my family were quite poor, this was the 80's I was one of 6 siblings. I had a younger brother and sister. My younger sister was the youngest of us, and spoiled as anything being the youngest. I was the reasonable one.
My parents were very frugal and everything was a hand me down.
I had an Uncle who loved in Germany and he would normally visit during the summer holidays. He was richer and was the fun Uncle. His visits were always fun, he would drive from Germany so we would have an extra car and driver for days out. We would have days out at the beach and theme parks when he would visit.
He also bought us a colour TV to replace our black and white one.
Anyway one time when he visited he brought us some gifts. I was about 7 or 8 years old and my sister is 3 years younger. I didnt have many toys. He bought two dolls one for myself and one for my younger sister.
My sister being the younger got to pick the doll she wanted first and being older I had to wait.
We then opened up the boxes, my doll was so beautiful and had hair down to her feet. My sisters doll only had hair down to her waist. I was so happy. But cue the tantrum when she realised she chose the wrong doll.
My parents persuaded me to swap dolls which I felt was unfair especially as she had picked the doll first but in the end I swapped my doll with her.
I being older took lots of care for my doll, I kept her in pristine condition and played with her all the time.
Within a day or so my sisters doll was a mess, the hair was a tip. She later gave her doll a really bad haircut and it horrible.
Anyway one day my doll went missing. I looked and looked but couldn't find her anywhere. A few weeks later I happened to find my doll half-dressed with pen marks all over her face and her hair a mess laying in a gutter outside. I knew as soon as I saw her who had done.
So not only did she first get to pick the doll, and then secondly swap the doll when she didnt get the nicer one.
She couldn't handle the fact my doll was in better condition and she had messed her own doll up so she ruined my doll and threw it out.
She later admitted it was her.

And no I haven't let her forget it.
In fact I even told my daughter this story as one of the stories of my childhood. She is only 6 years old, and now she randomly asks my sister why she threw her mums doll in the gutter.
She just likes to hear the story

[quote iklboo]**@JazzaGal* - DH says one of the reasons he married me is because I said 'ooh, you eat with your knife and fork the other* way round' not wrong way round. When he asked if it mattered I told him of course not, why would it? 16 years in October . [/quote]
Good on your DH other way is the better phrase.

Oh another one! When I was 5 I said I wanted an alarm clock. My nan gave me her old basic white plastic one because she got one of those fancy red digital ones (it was the 80s). I had this thing beside my bed. When I woke up I could see the time and know it was time to get up or stay in bed (I used to get up at 5/6). My dads alarm clock broke so they took mine and kept it. They could afford another one but didn’t want to buy one. I asked my nan for another one because “mummy and daddy took mine and won’t give it back” and I got a smack for that. Jokes was on them. I kept getting up at 5:30 because I didn’t know the time in the morning!

I was 7/8. My parents were divorced and during the summer I spent quite a lot of time with my grandmother. Due to our family situation my self esteem was very low for a child and if it was now I'd probably be a monitored child. I have always been quite artistic and good at English. Granny gave me a notebook and I started to write poetry. I suppose they would now be called haikus but Granny said that they were marvellous 'abstract' poems.
Fast forward to the start of a new school year and the teacher said that she wanted us to write a poem about a tree! Yes you know where it's going!
Mine was along the lines of

Tree
Bending
Bowing in the
Wind
Falling
Flowing
Arms out stretched

It took me ages to compose it. She went mad, called me lazy and decided to read it out to the rest of the class, everyone laughed at me. I remember her distinctly saying 'Listen to what Queens has written'. My punishment was to stay in at breaks/lunch to write a 'proper' poem.
The legacy of this was that it made me unsure about everything I did academically and I needed LOTS of reassurance that I was doing the right thing from then on.😢 Bearing in mind that I was a nervous, sensitive child it hurt and badly so. Miss Bunting you were a bitch and a crap teacher. The salt still stings 50 years on!

In adulthood for mine. DH and I went out for dinner for our anniversary, first time out after birth of first child, DS, three months before. I’d squeezed into the only nice dress I had, still feeling like a massive breastfeeding seacow, and we had a wonderful evening, great food etc.

Just as we were leaving, got a really odd vibe as we passed through the restaurant bar, and when we walked outside DH had face like thunder. I insisted he told me why (I was imagining something truly awful), and it turned out the older women sitting at the bar had all been signalling to each other and rolling their eyes at my enormous udders squeezed into that one nice dress. Poor DH felt awful for telling me, I felt awful at being mocked. Still salty that I didn’t go back in and talk to them, tell them I’d had a baby twelve weeks before. I hope they’d have felt fucking awful (or at least sorry).

My younger sister scribbled on all my art books so I wasn't allowed to take it at GCSE, as no one believed it was her and said I didn't have enough talent.

When I was 7 or 8 I got bought a red electric organ for Christmas, it was awesome. My sister (2 1/2 years younger) got something I can't remember. She wanted a go on my organ so I said she could if I could play with her gift. She said no, so I said no. Anyway on boxing day she harped on again, but still wouldn't share her toy. Mum said if I didn't let her have a go she would smash my organ with the hammer. I tried to tell my dm I wanted her to share too, but she said she didn't have to. So I kept saying no. My dm went to the shed, got a hammer and smashed my day old organ to bits in front of me, then pasted me and sent me to bed with no tea for not sharing. Was over 40 years ago and it still boils my piss.
When we were teens we'd got green beans on our dinner, dsis had always hated them so asked if I wanted them. She moved her plate nearer to me so I took them. She then stabbed me in the neck with her fork because I took them all.dm just said I shouldn't have been so greedy. You can still see the 4 white dots on my neck where she stabbed me. Rotten cow! Honestly we're really close now and I have forgiven her!

When I was 16 I worked school holidays, evenings and weekends in an office dealing with bookings of the local community centres through an agency. I had three weeks training before the woman in charge went on holiday for two weeks and there was only me and another agency worker who it turned out was hopeless and had no logic - for example sometimes she'd file "St Peter's" under S and sometimes P and on one occasion under C for "Community centre" so it was a guess. We had to put the bookings onto the system, anwer the phone, send confirmation letters and file the forms away. It wasn't super complicated, but I wrote myself a step-by-step guide to every part of the job in a notebook.

The got rid of alphabet woman, I manned the office single handed for two weeks then got kept on for three months as they were moving the bookings to the new council call centre they were setting up. I applied for one of the jobs and didn't get it, even though I'd been doing it for three months, but they asked me to stay on for another two months while they trained the staff they'd given the jobs. I didn't realise until after that needing me to run the office while they trained the new people was why I hadn't got the job. They were apparently going to offer me a job in a second wave

They then asked for the training manual I told them there wasn't one. Then when I was at lunch one day they took it, told my agency they didn't want me back because I'd lied and hidden "the training manual" and then to add insult to injury they paid the agency £500 to have someone type up, print and bind my fucking notes.

Once the owner of the agency found out she was furious and charged them an extra £200, which she gave to me. Which was lovely of her, but a permanent job would have been much better and the injustice of it still really annoys me

So many miserable memories. The main ones are me being grounded for things that weren’t my fault or not being allowed to give an explanation.

I must have been about 6 and my older cousin was visiting for the day. My dad came in to the lounge and asked me why I hadn’t told him about the bed. I had no idea what he was talking about. Turns out my cousin had completely broken my wooden bed and propped it up with a bucket she found in the house. She didn’t say a word so I was scolded and grounded for lying. Grounded meant staying in my room for a week and my parents barely speaking to me.

Aged 5 I was playing dollies with my friend and said that babies come from your bum, not your belly. I had seen some basic biology books explaining this. My mother overheard me say this, told me I was wrong and grounded me again.

Another time I was staying with my grandparents and my Dad called me saying “just you wait until you get home” in a threatening way, implying I was in some sort of trouble. I was a good kid and never set a foot out of line so I worried and worried until I got home. When I got home, they had actually decorated my room, one of the only nice things they had ever done for me. Rather than saying I had a lovely surprise waiting, they made me dread going home so the surprise was somewhat soured.

They done the same thing one Christmas too. I accidentally spotted my main Christmas gift in the wardrobe, so secretly I knew I was expecting one from Father Christmas And was very excited. Christmas morning came and the gift wasn’t there. I was disappointed but never said a word. After dinner, the main gift was brought out, again I was meant to be extra grateful after being disappointed.

It’s no wonder I’m a miserable adult

When you go on a thread on MN and post a reply which is ignored but you carry on RTFT and see somebody else has not RTFT and posted the same thing that you already said and lots of people reply to it. Even if they don't agree they have still replied, it's as if some usernames get ignored intentionally even though this obviously doesn't happen.

Too much stuff. I'm a bitter twisted old snake 🐍 I really need to let go of it all, it can't be good for me.

This thread has brought up so many memories.

Interesting that most seem to be from primary school. I remember the usual class bully who picked on me for seven years because I was quiet and shy. She used to copy my work and then shove me out of the way to get to the teacher first so I would be told off for copying. All but one of my teachers saw through it, but not the Y1 teacher, who was a mate of bully's mum.

But I think the ones that really rankle came from my teenage years.

I used to have terribly painful periods as a teenager. I'm talking curled up in the foetal position crying sort of painful. My mum still talks about the day I went for a walk with her when I had my period and vomited into a bush with the pain. She says things like "I can't imagine why you agreed to come when you felt so bad!" and gives a little laugh. She seems to have forgotten that I agreed to go because she had spent all morning telling me how disgustingly lazy I was for curling up on the sofa under a blanket, and how I would get fat just sitting around on my backside all day.

The other was my 18th birthday. It fell on some sort of 'review day' or something like that. You had a ten minute appointment with your form tutor and then the rest of the day off. My best friend begged the form tutor to allow the two of us to have the first appointments of the day, so that we could go into the local city together for my birthday. The teacher agreed and my friend promised shopping and cinema, and various other exciting activities. I turned up at 8.30am on the day, and my best friend greeted me with "yeah, I'm going into town with Laura instead now, so I'll see you tomorrow." I was gutted, and protested a bit, but was told she didn't want to go with me. She went off for the day with 'Laura' - a girl I didn't really know, and wasn't aware that she even knew that well either. I went home on my own, to my empty house - both parents were out at work - and cried. I still don't know why she built it up so much only to do that to me.