Friday, November 5, 2010

Don't got much baggage to lay at your feet

The Twitter meme today was #tweetyour16yearoldself. Several people talked about regrets like "dont chase after dude. he's not worth it." or "Also, that bleach isn't going to work and your blue hair dye's going to come out black. Just so you know." Loads of women reminded their younger selves that they weren't fat, ugly, or otherwise unattractive. And a lot of people encouraged their 16-year-old selves by one way or another that "It gets better."

But try as I might, I couldn't think of a single thing I felt the need to tell myself from 10 years ago, because, you know what? I LIKED being 16. No, scratch that, I LOVED being 16.

16 was a good year. 17 wasn't my favorite, but 16 was pretty much the awesome.

I had great friends that year.

I had a pager.

I loved my classes (Geology, Spanish AP, Acapella choir, US History AP, Calculus AB AP, Dance, English [okay I actually hated my English class but two years later I would fall in love with the boy who sat behind me and we would date for a year], and Seminary).

I had a vehicle. The best baby blue 1985 Nissan standard transmission pick-up you ever did see.

I had my first kiss. At EFY, natch.

I had my first secret boyfriend, a senior even. Who I never kissed (until we dated again when I was in college). And was in a different state from for half of the three weeks we were "together."

I had a great little job with increasing responsibilities based on my excellent performance and it didn't involve food (except for the "secret" cabinet I had access to after my promotion).

I had my second kiss, with a boy 4 years my senior. It took me by surprise and I told him to take a hike within a week.

Yes, I had braces, and the secret boyfriend broke up with me and that sucked, and sometimes I had to keep my truck's doors closed with bungee cords, but it was all worth it. As @thebookpolice said, "
I get the IDEA of #tweetyour16yearoldself, but guys, how unhappy *are* you? You wouldn't be who you are now without the crap you endured."

But if there was something I would want to myself then, or any 16 year old, or hey, ANYONE. It would be this (warning: there is a swear):

Anything you'd want to tell your 16 year old self?


Myrna said...

I loved your post!I think you were about sixteen when I met you, Miss Bubbles. (I thought that really was your name for the longest time...)

Anonymous said...

It's ALL about pagers.

Also I would tell myself three very important things:

1. You wear ill-fitting pants. Fix that.
2. Hoard all those sweet vintage clothes you keep finding in thrift stores. Their days are numbered.
3. (secret)

Giggles said...

I'd probably tell myself something about how to dress better as well. But it was the 90s so it really wasn't that bad.

And I'd reassure myself that I really was right, high school is not the best time of your life.