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letter to my 16 year old self


Dear 16 year old me,

Rap is just a phase that you will grow out of.
That boy you are pining over. He will be bald before he is 30. Move on.
You will never be this skinny again. Or have this metabolism. Eat more donuts. Wear bathing suits proudly.
Don’t talk back so much to your teachers. One day you will be one.
Overalls are only ok if you are pregnant. It is never ok to leave one or both of the straps down.
Stop wasting your money on the cool jeans.
Eye shadow does not need to match your outfit.
Wear your retainer.
90210 will attempt to make a comeback. Skip it.
Please stop adding “and shit” on the end of every sentence. You sound like an idiot.
Don’t worry about spelling. This crazy thing called spell check will do it for you.
There will always be groups that you don’t fit in. It doesn’t end with the high school cafeteria. Stop trying. If you have to try to fit into a group it is one you don’t want in.
Bangs should not be stacked.
Wine coolers are gross.
Read more books and less magazines.
You do not know nearly as much as you think you do.
Sometimes your parents were right.
Sometimes your teachers were right.
At your 10 year reunion, people will talk to you and you won’t remember who they are. And you will wonder if you were nice to them. Be nice. Don’t make your 26 year old self wonder.
Do not, I repeat, do NOT try to pierce your own bellybutton with a safety pin. You will totally regret it.
Hickeys are icky.
You will not look like Jennifer Anniston if you get layers in your hair. And layers take a really really long time to grow out.
Be glad your parents didn’t let you go to most of those parties.
The mall is a really dumb place to hang out.
Eye rolling is not an Olympic sport. Stop practicing.
Shirts should cover your belly button.
Your car will inevitably overheat any time you are somewhere you are not supposed to be.
When you sneak out of your window, you are much less likely to get caught if you remember to put the screen back.
Baby oil is not sunscreen.
Nothing is as black and white as you think it is. Keep that self righteousness to yourself.
You never say this. But you often feel Alone. Afraid. Insecure. Unwanted. Confused. Misunderstood. Guess what. So does everyone else your age .
Don’t let people tell you that these are the best days of your life. They are fun. Enjoy them but it totally gets better.
You have no idea how good you have it.
Those dorky guys sitting next to you in PreCal or in orchestra will get really hot in college.
Don’t waste time matching your socks but listen to your friend Julie who tells you that brown shoes should never be worn with a black belt.
Whatever you think is some huge critical earth shattering critical thing right now…is so not a big deal.
Your shorts are way too short.
One day MTV will not play music videos.
Nothing good happens after midnight. You might as well go home.
That handful of friends you made….you will keep most of them. You chose well.
That boyfriend you had a few months ago. Total loser. Be glad he ditched you for the girl who would put out. Mostly be glad it wasn’t you.
Making a mix tape is an art. Keep making art. (except there will be no such thing as tapes).
Tom Cruise will go crazy. On Oprah’s couch. But feel free to keep watching Top Gun and Cocktail.
Most people aren’t really buying your tough girl act. So you might as well stop acting.
Your friends and family aren’t mind readers. Say thank you and tell them what you need. You should also apply that same rule to your future husband (who by the way is pretty awesome).
You were right. You will never need Calculus again. Ever.

Comments

Dawn said…
I love this. I found a picture of myself last week from my senior prom. I took it to Brent and said, I wish that I (me at 36) could go back in time and slap that girl (me at 18). I was a stick and I thought I was so fat. If only I knew then what I know now...
Joe. said…
That was really beautiful. I look back on yesterday and want to slap myself for somethings I did. I can't imagine what its like to look back 10 years.
katy said…
Love it. All of it! And as the proud wife of a sexy former orchestra dork, I can say -- right on, sista!

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