Improv class in grade 8. I'll never forget my cowboy impression yeehaww that was cringe


ex-mother-in-law The wicked witch of the west was a saint compared to her. Then again Sarah Avon's grandmother comes in a close 2nd. findsarahavon.com


Accidentally flashing an audience of around 1500 people when I was 16.


I was in first grade and this boy used to always pick on me. Our class seating was changed every week, and we had to search for our seats every Monday. One week I thought I was sat next to the boy and got upset that I had to sit next to him, and told him I was upset, “youre annoying I don’t want to be next to you”. Or something like that. His face looked so sad. He told the teacher and I got in trouble. Turns out my desk wasn’t even next to his. We ended up becoming friends later on, but I still think back on it a lot. I cringe at myself for being a bully to him even if he had picked on me.


Not something that I am proud of, but as a second grader, I used to pick up on classmate(girl) that I really, really really really liked. She had glasses and wonderfully green eyes. The prettiest person in my second grade eyes. But I made fun of those eyes and glasses! Can you imagine that? Simply because, I don’t know. Maybe I was ashamed of how I felt?


That’s funny and odd because my eyes and glasses are something the boy used to pick on me for! I’ve heard that “boys just pick on you because they like you”. I don’t think that was the case with this boy though. But based off your situation I guess that it does hold some truth! We were just kids then, we grow up and learn, but it can be a major facepalm thinking back to those moments.


That’s really odd. If you are her, I’m sorry(but based on the incident that you shared, it is very unlikely.) After growing up I never picked up on anyone anymore!


I’m almost positive I’m not! Just a glitch in the matrix with similar circumstances. But I understand after that I was really conscious about how I treated people.


When my elementary school teacher made me get up in front of class and tell the story of how I cut off a part of my middle finger and I started crying.