Page 49 of Bookish Boys Don't Date Social Girls
Kate Bellamy is the morning show host who interviewed me. She’s a local celebrity, and I was a bit starstruck to be chatting with her at all, let alone over something so personal.
This assistant, I cannot remember his name, originally contacted me last week, shortly after my #NoMoreShame video went viral. I honestly thought the buzz would die down quickly and that’s the main reason I chose not to take him up on the offer. It felt like if I did the show and then everybody forgot about #NoMoreShame, people would think I was just trying to grasp at my fifteen minutes of fame. But by the time he reached out again, the day before yesterday, I was eager to accept the offer. I’ve been staying up late every singlenight, trying to respond to all the comments and videos so victims can feel heard. Knowing that the show would provide me an opportunity to talk to so many #NoMoreShame victims at once, was too good to pass up.
I couldn’t believe it when Mom cleared her calendar to be here with me. Because I’m underage, I had to have a parent or guardian with me, but I honestly expected my parents to ask their lawyer to meet me here. I’ve done a number of interviews via email, and Mom has run several of them through her lawyer before I return them to the blogger or newspapers for publication. It means a lot to me that Mom finds this important enough to make time for.
Turns out, the reason the morning show was so persistent about having me on was because Mrs. Bellamy was a victim of shaming when she was in school. She had buck teeth, and kids teased her about it. She announced on the show that the #NoMoreShame movement has inspired her to start a non-profit to support children who are victims of shaming. Any type of shaming. I almost cried on live T.V. when she revealed the new organization, Shame-Less
She told Mom and me after our segment—quickly, since it was only a commercial break—that she hopes I’ll be involved in her organization. She feels I have strong leadership qualities and that I’m already a symbol to so many girls and women.
“So, I’m sure I’ll be in touch with you for Ms. Bellamy regarding the Shame-Less project,” the assistant says, as he scans the studio.
“Great,” I say. Now that the interview is over, I’m eager to leave. The studio is very chaotic when the cameras aren’t rolling. “You have my information.”
“I do.” He nods. “Have a good day, ladies.”
Mom’s lip is curled as she watches him walk away. “Ten bucks says he hasn’t heard a word of what #NoMoreShame is about.”
“He does seem full of himself, doesn’t he?” I scan the room behind us. “Hey, want to be in a selfie with me for my Instagram page?”
Mom’s eyes bug. “What? So your one hundred thousand plus followers can see me?”
I grin at her. “Yes. I’m proud of my mama!”
She squeezes my hand. “And I’m proud of my baby. Let’s take a selfie.”
I find a good angle that puts Mom and me in the middle of the picture and shows the large cameras and lit-up set in the background. Mom approves the picture and I quickly post it with a caption telling everyone what I just did.
After I post it, I look up to find Mom staring at me with an inscrutable expression.
“What?” I ask.
“Remember that conversation we had about what it’s like to be a parent?”
“The one where you admitted to being a control freak?”
She chuckles. “Yes, that one.”
“I do.”
“I’m not as worried about you, Samantha.” Mom runs a hand down my hair and gently squeezes my upper arm. “You have proven you know exactly when and where to flex your muscles and that you aren’t afraid to do so.”
I blink away the sting behind my eyes. Besides being a self-admitted control freak, Mom is a force in the business world and in life. Having her confidence means a ton to me. More than she will ever know.
“I’m very proud of you, dear.”
We clasp hands and stride out of the studio and into the sunnysummer day.
I spendmost of my day searching for #NoMoreShame videos, watching and commenting. I also have a ton of instant messages, texts, and emails from locals about the morning show. Several people are excited to hear about Shame-Less and take the time to share their own stories about being shamed over things like hair color, sexual orientation, fashion sense, so many stories. I point all of them to the brand-new Shame-Less website and encourage them to share their stories with them directly.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I frown when I check the time and realize it’s already after six in the evening. When I’m online looking for victims, I get so caught up, I can lose entire days, like this.
“Come in?” I say it like a question, because who can it be? It’s way too early for my parents. Ava or Bek wouldn’t have knocked. Who else is there?
The door cracks open and Ines sticks her head in and smiles.
“Holy cupcakes! My oldest sister is here?” I push away from my desk and run across my room, with my arms held straight out, ready to wrap her in a hug.
“Not just your sister,” Lincoln says, as he follows her into my room.
