When you’re at high school, the littlest things can feel like a pretty big deal. Missing a deadline or an invite to a party, getting a humongous pimple on the night of the school social, or when your Dove “summer glow” turns out a shade more akin to nuclear radiation.
But when you’re at an all-girls Catholic high school, these little things feel like the end of the world. Full-blown Armageddon. How can you ever come back from that time you called your teacher mum? Or the time you forgot to shave your bikini line before swimming sports day? You can’t – and you’re probably also going straight to hell. What for? Who knows! That’s the beauty of Catholic guilt! (an entirely new phenomenon for me, having grown up Orthodox).
