On the day that 11-year-old Margaret and her parents move to Farbrook, Margaret meets her first new friend, Nancy. Within days, Margaret is drawn into Nancy’s circle, becoming friends with Janie and Gretchen. The four of them form a secret club called the Four PTS’s (Pre-Teen Sensations). As the year progresses, the girls’ club meetings consistently revolve around boys and puberty, and Margaret finds that she often has to dress a certain way, or say that she likes boys she actually doesn’t like, in order to fit in. Furthermore, she learns that other kids her age are also lying about who they are and what they’ve experienced in order to fit in or impress others—in fact, it seems like barely anyone is comfortable with who they actually are. But as the novel progresses, this social order begins to seem silly to Margaret, who is genuinely interested in figuring out who she is and what she truly wants. In this way, the book suggests that it’s immature to change oneself to fit in with others—growing up isn’t about conforming or being normal, it’s about gaining the confidence to be true to oneself.
From the moment Margaret starts spending time with Nancy, she realizes that their friendship is contingent on embodying a certain ideal. At first, Margaret doesn’t live up to Nancy’s expectations—Nancy believes that “city girls develop faster,” so she’s disappointed when Margaret’s chest proves to be just as flat and undeveloped as her own, and again when Margaret admits she’s never kissed a boy. Following these revelations, Nancy begins dictating how Margaret and her other friends must dress and act in order to be a part of her secret club. Nancy mandates that the Four PTS’s must all wear bras and can’t wear socks with their loafers. For Margaret, this comes at a price: she has to go through the anxiety-inducing experience of asking Mom to buy her a bra so she can attend the first club meeting, and Margaret has blisters on her feet before she even gets to school on the first day. But apparently this is all worth it to Margaret, because she wants to belong to her friend group and feel “normal.”
This peer pressure leads Margaret and her friends to try to change themselves or lie in order to fit in. When the girls decide they must keep Boy Books (ranked lists of the boys they like) and check each other’s lists every meeting, Margaret has another conundrum: Nancy hates the boy Margaret likes (Moose), so to stay in Nancy’s good graces, Margaret lies that she has a crush on Philip Leroy, rather than sharing her feelings for Moose. This shows that, at least subconsciously, Margaret believes that the only way to have friends is to hide her own desires and be the kind of friend Nancy wants. But even without overt pressure from Nancy, Margaret still feels pressure to fit in with her classmates and look more mature. This is why, for instance, Margaret stuffs her bra in order to go to Norman Fishbein’s Christmas party. And Nancy even caves to this pressure by lying to her friends about starting her period. Just as Margaret’s stuffed bra makes Margaret feel more powerful and confident, Nancy’s lie about starting her period turns her into an expert on the subject among her friends—something that ensures that Nancy can continue to dictate how the other PTS’s act, since she seems older and more experienced.
However, as the school year passes, Margaret gradually realizes that she would rather be herself than pretend to be the person Nancy wants her to be. For instance, she grows tired of pretending to have a crush on Philip Leroy, since she can’t ignore that he’s an obnoxious and lazy person who isn’t worthy of her affection. Though she never works up the courage to stop ranking him first in her Boy Book, she does end the novel feeling far more confident about her crush on Moose—showing that she’s gaining the confidence to be herself. Similarly, Nancy spreads rumors that their classmate Laura is promiscuous, and she warns Margaret that Laura’s reputation is contagious, thereby keeping Margaret from ever befriending Laura. But when Margaret finally speaks with Laura, Laura implies that none of Nancy’s accusations are true—Nancy is simply targeting and bullying Laura because Laura is so much more developed than she is. Margaret’s willingness to form her own opinion, rather than parroting Nancy’s, again shows that Margaret is finally developing the confidence to be her own person and make choices that put her at odds with her peers. By the end of the novel, as Margaret is more and more willing to think for herself, she realizes that she can’t take Nancy at her word about who Margaret should like, idolize, or vilify—she must make these decisions for herself. The book ends with a much more mature Margaret, someone with the confidence to discover who she is, what she thinks, and what she wants.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Friendship, Fitting In, and Social Pressure ThemeTracker
Friendship, Fitting In, and Social Pressure Quotes in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.
Now some kids might think, who cares about seeing a grandmother? But Sylvia Simon is a lot of fun, considering her age, which I happen to know is sixty. The only problem is she’s always asking me if I have boyfriends and if they’re Jewish. Now that is ridiculous because number one I don’t have boyfriends. And number two what would I care if they’re Jewish or not?
“Oh, you’re still flat.” Nancy laughed.
“Not exactly,” I said, pretending to be very cool. “I’m small boned, is all.”
“I’m growing already,” Nancy said, sticking her chest way out. “In a few years I’m going to look like one of those girls in Playboy.”
Well, I didn’t think so, but I didn’t say anything. My father gets Playboy and I’ve seen those girls in the middle. Nancy looks like she has a long way to go. Almost as far as me.
The teacher wasn’t in the room when we got there. That is, the real teacher. There was this girl, who I thought was the teacher, but she turned out to be a kid in our class. She was very tall (that’s why I thought she was the teacher) with eyes shaped like a cat’s. You could see the outline of her bra through her blouse and you could also tell from the front that it wasn’t the smallest size. She sat down alone and didn’t talk to anyone. I wondered if maybe she was new too, because everybody else was busy talking and laughing about summer vacations and new hair styles and all that.
The others were already there. Janie Loomis, Gretchen Potter, and Nancy. That was it. We sat around on the porch and Nancy brought us cokes and cookies. When Gretchen helped herself to six Oreos at once Nancy asked her how much weight she’d gained over the summer. Gretchen put back four cookies and said, “Not much.”
“But if you aren’t any religion, how are you going to know if you should join the Y or the Jewish Community Center?” Janie asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it. Maybe we won’t join either one.”
“But everybody belongs to one or the other,” Nancy said.
“Not me,” Nancy said, proudly. “Mine’s a thirty-two double A.”
We were all impressed.
“If you ever want to get out of those baby bras you have to exercise,” she told us.
But on the other side of me things were even worse. I was next to Laura Danker! I was afraid to even look her way. Nancy warned me that reputations were catching. Well, I didn’t have to worry because Laura didn’t look my way either. She looked straight ahead.
Also, we just about gave up on our Boy Books. For one thing the names never changed. Nancy managed to shift hers around. It was easy for her—with eighteen boys. But Janie and Gretchen and I always listed Philip Leroy number one. There was no suspense about the whole thing. And I wondered, did they list Philip Leroy because they really liked him or were they doing what I did—making him number one because he was so good-looking. Maybe they were ashamed to write who they really liked too.
I tiptoed back to my room and closed the door. I stepped into my closet and stood in one corner. I shoved three cotton balls into each side of my bra. Well, so what if it was cheating! Probably other girls did it too. I’d look a lot better, wouldn’t I? So why not!
Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret. I just came home from church. I loved the choir—the songs were so beautiful. Still, I didn’t really feel you God. I’m more confused than ever. I’m trying hard to understand but I wish you’d help me a little. If only you could give me a hint God. Which religion should I be? Sometimes I wish I’d been born one way or the other.
“Does it make you feel older?” I asked.
“Naturally,” Gretchen answered. “My mother said now I’ll really have to watch what I eat because I’ve gained too much weight this year. And she said to wash my face well from now on—with soap.”
“And that’s it?” Nancy said. “The whole story?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, Nancy. But really, that’s all there is to tell. Oh, one thing I forgot. My mother said I may not get it every month yet. Sometimes it takes a while to get regular.”
Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret. Gretchen, my friend, got her period. I’m so jealous God. I hate myself for being so jealous, but I am. I wish you’d help me just a little. Nancy’s sure she’s going to get it soon, too. And if I’m last I don’t know what I’ll do. Oh please God. I just want to be normal.
“Does she always act like that?”
“It’s her first time,” Mrs. Wheeler explained. “She’s frightened.” Nancy was still crying and there was a lot of whispering going on.
I couldn’t believe it! Nancy, who knew everything! She’d lied to me about her period. She’d never had it before!
To make matters worse I had to sit facing Laura Danker. I hated her. I hated her for being so big and beautiful and having all the boys stare at her, including Mr. Benedict. Also, I hated her because she knew she was normal and I didn’t know a thing about me!
Now that really started me thinking. For one thing, I never knew she was Catholic. For another, I wondered what she said in Confession. I mean, did she talk about what she did with boys? And if she did, what did the priest say to her? Did she go to Confession every time she did something bad? Or did she save it all up and go once a month?
“Don’t you think I know all about you and your friends? Do you think it’s any fun to be the biggest kid in the class?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it.”
“Well, try thinking about it. Think about how you’d feel if you had to wear a bra in fourth grade and how everybody laughed and how you always had to cross your arms in front of you. And about how the boys called you dirty names just because of how you looked.”
I thought about it. “I’m sorry, Laura,” I said.
“I’ll bet!”
“I really am. If you want to know the truth…well, I wish I looked more like you than like me.”
I really hurt Laura’s feelings. Why did you let me do that? I’ve been looking for you God. I looked in temple. I looked in church. And today, I looked for you when I wanted to confess. But you weren’t there. I didn’t feel you at all. Not the way I do when I talk to you at night. Why God? Why do I only feel you when I’m alone?
“Who needs religion? Who! Not me…I don’t need it. I don’t even need God!” I ran out of the den and up to my room.
[…]
I was never going to talk to God again. What did he want from me anyway? I was through with him and his religions! And I was never going to set foot in the Y or the Jewish Community Center—never.
So I grabbed her box and headed for Max and the cash register. I plopped everything down in front of him and just stood there not looking at his face and not saying anything either. He added it all up and I motioned to Janie to give me her money. Then I said, “Two bags, please.” Max took my money, gave me some change, which I didn’t bother to count, and presented me with two brown bags. That was all there was to it! You’d think he sold that kind of stuff every day of the week.
