Why do embarrassing moments make you stronger
Embarrassing experiences at school
It was in the seventh or eighth grade, we were supposed to read a passage of text one after the other. When it was my turn, the word "illiterate" was written very inconveniently separated on two pages, namely: "anal-" (turn one page further) "-phabeten". Accordingly, I then emphasized it while reading. Of course, my classmates stopped fighting while I was blushing. I then had to listen to the story for a very, very long time.
In the first or second grade I had to go to the bathroom urgently for an hour. I answered and asked the teacher to go to the bathroom. She denied me. I should be patient until after the lesson. Unfortunately, my need became more and more urgent. When at the end of the lesson we had to hand in our exercise books to the teacher at the front, it happened: I pissed my pants in front of the entire class! While a puddle was spreading on the ground, I would have loved to sink into the ground.
First hour German advanced course, round of introductions and the question of why we chose GERMAN as advanced course. I, pretty cool at the time, wanted to be a writer and I was pretty sure of my thing - one hundred percent confidence. But also kind of nervous, how it is when you are supposed to keep your cool appearance in school and then talk in front of people. The result: "German is very important for me with my professional goal and unfortunately the ONLY thing I can do ..."
In physical education, I was always the one who kept jumping over the buck instead of over. And I basically avoided volleyball instead of accepting it. How nice it was when I finally thought in eighth grade while skiing: "Aha, so this is my sport!" Everything went fine and I quickly advanced to the advanced course. I confidently took the lift up the big mountain to gather with the other "ski professionals". When I arrived there was a lot of laughter and my newfound arrogance quickly went away: I had put my ski boots on the wrong way round! How I got my left foot stuffed into my right shoe and vice versa is a mystery to me to this day.
I changed high school in eleventh grade. During the break, the cool people hung out in the so-called smoking cage - a corner in the schoolyard where you could smoke. At that point I hadn't smoked a single cigarette, but of course I wanted to be part of it. So I got a cigarette and pulled the thing more or less to my lungs. In the English lesson that followed, the nicotine flash set in: First I got a racing heart, then I felt sick. Since I didn't want to cause a stir, of course, I tried not to let my condition show. As a result, I wanted to storm out of the classroom to the toilet at the last second. I just couldn't do that anymore. Instead, I spat in the trash can in front of the assembled crew. So much for the topic: don't want to attract attention!
At some point in the late 80s, I absolutely had to have a perm too - those big, softly falling curls, as we knew them from advertising. So I saved all my money and went to the hairdresser, who created this oversized, air-dried curly head out of my beautiful long hair. After crying the whole evening because the result did not meet my expectations at all, I took courage again and was ready for my appearance in reality as inconspicuously as possible.
The next day, Latin at the zeroth hour, the hour before the first, which began at 7.27 a.m., I was too late, as is so often the case: When I entered the class, it was as quiet as a mouse. With a bright red head under my curly head, I scurried to my seat, accompanied by a never-ending, deafening fit of laughter from the rest of the pack. Today that would be bullying, back then it was just embarrassing.
I still blush when I think about it. So, tenth grade, math class test. I go up to the desk to ask the teacher something. I had a chewing gum in my mouth forbidden - but no one will notice, I think. Then at the desk: whisper, whisper - plop! - the chewing gum falls out of my mouth and falls straight onto my teacher's math book. Fortunately, it was easy to detach from the math book and landed in the trash can. But I was so embarrassed!
I had these new block-heeled denim over-the-knee boots that were very popular in the '90s and made me feel super hot. Must have been like that when I was 16 or 17, definitely in high school, and I casually combined the boots with a miniskirt and checkered tights (what a fashionable disaster, no matter where - but TO SCHOOL ?! Well ... ).
In any case, in physics class on the way to the blackboard when I was supposed to write something, I managed to put my face in my hot boots in front of the entire class because I could hardly walk with them. Seen this way: I ran shit long before there was "Germany’s next top model". I kept the boots in the closet for a long time afterwards, but I never put them on again except for Mardi Gras.
Markus, teacher at a vocational school:
When we deal with a boring topic, I like to play a loosening up game every now and then to get the class going again. In this game, one student can tell the other what to do. Sebastian should be a toast and jump as high as he can. He did too - and he farted so loudly that the entire class was then on the floor, bawling. Me too. Fortunately, the class community was so good that there was no teasing or anything like that afterwards.
Shortly before graduation, I had a rear-end collision and had to wear a neck brace. I didn't look that good with that part. And as the prom was getting closer, I had the great idea to at least pimp my pale complexion with a little self-tanner. Of course, I applied the cream while I was wearing the ruff. And of course I no longer had to wear the ruff during the prom. So my face had the glow of a sexy Latina, while my neck remained as white as chalk. So I added a sequined scarf to my graduation outfit - of course only because I supposedly felt a slight sore throat and didn't want to risk a cold ...
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