So there I was, 2009. A freshman trying way too hard to figure out what the heck “cool” even was. High school was like this strange, high-stakes social experiment, and I was… well, let’s just say I was the guinea pig.
I’m Nicole Class of 09. And trust me, trying to be cool in that year was like trying to squeeze into jeans that were two sizes too small—awkward, uncomfortable, and not even worth it in the end. Here’s the kicker: I thought I had to be like everyone else to fit in. Turns out, the joke was on me.
Day One: Freshman Year And The Quest For Popularity
You know that feeling when you walk into the lunchroom on the first day and your heart stops because you’re suddenly aware of how much you don’t belong? Yeah, that was me. Everyone in the Nicole Class of 09 already had their groups. The “cool” kids were chatting about whatever the heck was trendy at the time—probably some pop song I hadn’t even heard of. Meanwhile, I was clinging to my hoodie like it was my only lifeline.
Trying to look cool? Oh, I was ALL about it. I mean, this was my chance to start fresh, right? Get in with the right crowd, rock the best outfit, and just… fit in. But my attempts to be “one of them” were like trying to wear skinny jeans without the proper stretch. Spoiler: it didn’t work.
Fashion Fiasco: The “Trying Too Hard” Look
First off, the Nicole Class of 09 was not exactly known for its low-key fashion choices. Oh no. It was all about the statement pieces—those graphic tees, the ridiculous number of layered necklaces, and if you didn’t have a pair of Converse? Were you even trying?
I thought I could just buy a whole new wardrobe to blend in. So I took a trip to the mall—well, let’s be real, it was the Walmart parking lot, but you get the idea—and came home with a crop top (don’t ask) and a pair of skinny jeans that my mom could barely zip up. I thought I was going to be a trendsetter. In reality, I was one bad fashion choice away from being the class clown.
But honestly? It was uncomfortable. The clothes didn’t suit me, and the whole “look at me, I’m cool now” attitude felt weird. My pants were so tight that I could barely breathe in class, but hey, at least I looked the part, right? Wrong.
Cringe City: Attempt #1—Music And Movies
Fast forward a few weeks. I was in too deep now. It wasn’t just about the clothes—it was about the conversations. You need to talk about the right stuff to be cool. Enter: music and movies. But y’all, I didn’t know what I was doing. Everyone was talking about indie bands or movies I had never seen.
I was so desperate to fit in that I started listening to obscure bands just to drop their names in casual conversation. “Yeah, I totally love The Strokes,” I’d say. Problem? I had literally never heard a song by them. Did I regret it? Oh, for sure. Because when someone asked me what my favorite track was, I froze. “Uhhhh… ‘Last Nite’?” That was probably the worst moment of my entire freshman year. Their blank stares? Totally deserved.
It was an endless cycle of trying to sound smart or cultured. I wanted to fit into those conversations so bad, I even Googled movie quotes to sneak into my chats. “Oh, The Breakfast Club? I live for that movie.” Ugh. My first year was a total mess.
Fast Forward A Year: Who Was I Even Trying To Be?
By sophomore year, I was knee-deep in trying to maintain this “cool” persona. But something clicked. Maybe it was all the awkward stares or the fact that my attempt at being someone else was more exhausting than memorizing algebra equations. One day, I looked in the mirror, and I realized… I was exhausted.
Trying to keep up this “cool” persona was draining. So, I gave up. Well, not in some dramatic, scene-stealing way. More like a gradual surrender. I started wearing the clothes that felt good on me—not the ones I thought would make me popular. I started listening to music I genuinely liked. Weird, I know.
It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, though. My herb garden, which I started as a personal revolution (okay, I was hoping to impress some friends), died faster than my 2020 sourdough starter. RIP, Gary, my basil plant. But hey, progress, right?
Nicole Class Of 09: A Weird, Beautiful Time
Looking back at my time in the Nicole Class of 09, I’ve got to laugh. My cringe-worthy attempts to be “cool” were more like a rite of passage. And yeah, I did some weird stuff. I showed up to class wearing a fedora once, as if I was some kind of hipster icon. Spoiler: I was not. The fedora? Gone by the next week.
But here’s the thing: it was all part of figuring out who I was. Everyone was in the same boat. The “cool” kids? Yeah, they were just trying to figure things out too. They just did it with a bit more confidence. Honestly, I think the biggest lesson I learned wasn’t about fitting in—it was about owning who I was, flaws and all.
I look at my senior pictures now, and I can’t help but laugh at my awkward attempt to give a smoldering look to the camera. Like, what was I thinking? That said, my senior year was when I finally felt like I was getting it. It wasn’t about wearing the right clothes, quoting the right movies, or pretending to like things I didn’t. It was about doing me, unapologetically.
Final Thought: Who Was I, Anyway?
So, now that I’m older, I can laugh about all the ridiculous stuff I did to be “cool.” I didn’t need to change who I was. I just needed to let go of the idea that I had to be anything other than myself. My time in the Nicole Class of 09 wasn’t wasted; it was a learning curve. A cringe-worthy, socially awkward, and, in hindsight, hilarious learning curve.
That’s the beauty of high school, right? Everyone is figuring themselves out. I just did it with a few more tragic fashion choices along the way.
Now, as I look back, I realize I made it through without needing to be anyone but me. And that, my friends, is what really counts.
