#TuesdayTruthday: Goody Feed Human Beings Reveal The Worst Thing They Did As A Rebellious Teenager

We all agree that the Internet is filled with nothing but truthfulness: that influencer whom you’ve been stalking definitely looks like a diva 24 hours a day, and travel 365 days a year.

Your friend is in a great relationship because he’s been posting lovey-dovey images on Instagram, despite the fact that you saw him on Tinder this morning.

With so many people having such a perfect image online, we thought of having a weekly section called #TuesdayTruthday, whereby we Goody Feed, the imperfect human beings on the Internet, reveal some of our stories to show you the truth online.

And for this Tuesday, we’re focusing on something that we’ve all experienced: teenage angst and rebellion.

Ahh, teenage life. Your body is like yo wtf is happening to me, your mind experiences a different emotion every ten minutes and your heart keeps going badonkadonk for cute people around you.

And, in addition to blood, angst and anger seem to course through your veins throughout your adolescence, making you constantly feel like tearing off heads and punching walls.

While we Goody Feed beings seem like nice creatures who would never hurt a fly, we actually enjoy hurting flies and often do it as a team-building exercise in the office.

We’ve also been terrible teenagers. Here are three stories of teenage angst:

The One Who Snuck Off To Malaysia – Editor, 27

Growing up in a conservative family, I’ve been acclimated to the word ‘no’. 

Me: Mummy, can I sleep over at my friend’s house? 

Mother: No!

Me: Mummy can I celebrate my friend’s birthday at a chalet?

Mother: No!

And so I continued to live under the draconian rules my parents laid out for me since young. 

One day though, I thought to myself: 

Why should I submit to these backdated preconceived notions my parents had?

For starters, they felt that girls shouldn’t come home late or that it isn’t safe to go out at night. All this while my friends used to party the night away.

So at the very ripe age of 21 I decided that enough was enough. I wanted to break free.

*Cue Ariana Grande’s song*

No, I didn’t go out to parties or get myself blackout drunk. 

At the time, I really just wanted to travel overseas with my friends, but I knew if I even asked my parents for permission, they’d flat out turn me down. 

My solution? I was going to sneak out of the house without their permission. I was going to travel overseas and only tell them once I’m there. 

And I did. 

Mother: Where are you?

Me: KL

Mother: What!??!?

Albeit, I only travelled to Kuala Lumpur which wasn’t very far. But baby steps first right?

Fast forward 4 years later and I’ve travelled to numerous countries without my parents breathing down my neck.

They were fuming mad at first, but slowly got used to the idea that I was old enough to take care of myself.

The One Who Asked A Friend To Pretend To Be A Chaperone – Deputy Editor, 27

Much like the Goody Feed being above, my parents were strict AF. No going out too late, no sleepovers with friends.

So, one day when I was invited to stayover at a chalet with friends to celebrate a birthday, I thought to myself I have to go for this one.

My friends already thought I was lame for never attending any sleepovers, so I somehow had to convince my parents to let me stay.

But then I remembered that these were my parents and that they wouldn’t let me go no matter what reason I came up with.

So, I did what most teenagers do to their parents in times like these. I lied.

I said a grown-up would be there to take care of us, one of my friend’s father. My parents said that would be fine, as long as they could speak to him.

So, being the genius that I was, I asked a friend who was a little older than me to pretend to be his own father and speak to my mum on the phone.

This is how the conversation went:

Hi there

Hey! I hear you’ll be staying at the chalet as well?

Yup! Just looking after the kids.

Uh… you sound… you sound a little young.

Oh hahahahahaha no. I’m ____’s father.

…

…

Uh… can you pass the phone back to my son please?

*I pick up the phone*

Do you think I’m an idiot?

Yeeeaaaah, I didn’t really think that one through. I tried to be rebelllious and said who cares I’m staying anyway, but then my mum threatened to call the police, and my butt left that chalet faster than The Flash on coke.

When I got back, I got quite a scolding, and vowed that if I ever had to lie to my parents again, I’d do it better.

The One Who Threw A Water Bottle At A Teacher – Writer, 23

Although my editors may not believe it, I’m generally a pretty well-behaved guy. Though, that doesn’t mean that I don’t have my fair share of “teenage moments”.

In lower secondary, art was a compulsory subject that everyone had to take. Aside from a few of my classmates, I think about half of us weren’t very good at it.

A classmate we shall C and I were both pretty slow to pick up on the lessons. We didn’t too well on most classes and tests (I did way worse) and generally didn’t appreciate the favouritism our art teacher showed to the better students.

I can still recall the constant threat of getting my parents called and extra lessons which, at 13, was pretty annoying. C and I started making snide remarks and comments whenever she would try to call us out on poor performance.

She probably passed it off as us being cheeky and generally continued to criticise or ignore us completely.

One day, a few weeks before final term exams, she again tried to call me and C out again and even went over to his table to try and berate him. For some reason, I decided I had enough.

I picked up my water bottle and flung it toward her direction, missing her head narrowly. “You stop talking so much crap!” Censoring myself a bit here. She tried telling me to calm down or she would call the discipline teachers but I didn’t care at that point. I was tired of her humiliating us. A classmate tried to stop me as I picked up my chair, which I’m glad she did because the chair ALSO went flying from my arms and once again, narrowly missing her but clipping her hair.

I kept hurling vulgarities and curses at her as my classmates kept trying to stop me, seeing as I had already grabbed a metal ruler and approached her. If a teacher hadn’t walked past our classroom and intervened, I think I could’ve been expelled.

Needless to say, I was swiftly sent to the principal’s office and straight to the discipline master. I was actually supposed to be caned, but I think they mistook my crying as regret and not post-anger tears. In fact, I surprisingly got let-off under the pretext of, “My record is clean and I have never acted out of order until this one moment.”

Did I apologise to my art teacher? Sort of. I did make sure to keep the rest of my secondary school life as clean as possible, thankfully.