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A letter to my high school self

Updated on June 26, 2017

A letter to my high school self

Dear high school me,

You’re strange and weird and a little awkward. Your hair is a little frizzy and crazy and your clothes don’t quite fit in or right. Guess what? In twenty five years, none of that will matter. In fact, it won’t matter on June 23, 1995 either. The only people that matters to are the other kids trying to find their places in the social hierarchy of adolescence. That all being said, let me give you some tips to make life easier.


Be you. Don’t tone down or turn up for anyone but you. There are two men named Tim Burton and Neil Gaiman. They are weird and wonderful and rich and famous. I’m not saying you’ll be rich and famous, but I am saying is it’s ok to be you one hundred percent.


It’s ok to have your girly moments, to want to wear skirts, do your hair, and put on makeup. It’s also ok to wear all black. Just get some help with the makeup. Ask Jodi or Anna or any of the girls at school. That will be a bonding memory for you. But trust me, get help one or you will wind up learning from drag queen friends after college. Not exactly the look that carries from day to night easily.


There is no permanent record that follows you around until you’re six feet in the ground. Learn anyway. Especially history and math. Learn as much as you can.


Visit Great Grandma more. Talk to her. Call her on the phone. Be there. Listen to her stories. Ask her questions. Write it all down. Take pictures of her. You will miss her terribly and you have no idea how much is left unsaid until it can’t be heard any more.


Stop fighting with Dad so much. He loves you. You grew up and he lost his buddy. Remember monkey bars and water ices when you want to yell. Ask him to read Bert and Ernie with you at least once a month. Record it. Tape it. You can play it for your kids when he’s not around.


Mom doesn’t hate you. I know things are rough and they’re going to get tougher. She’s going through a lot more than you know. Offer help and an ear to listen to her. Do things without being asked 100 times. Clean your room. You have no idea how handy that skill comes in later. You’re going to fight with her. It’s not worth trying to kill yourself over. It’s a speed bump on the road to one of the truly great relationships you will have.


Ask Ben Vinci to the senior prom. Nothing will come of it, but at least you can say you did. You will always have trouble talking to boys. You will have more long term relationships than short burst romances. I know how they turn out and I won’t tell you. You need to go through it all to get where I am. You’ll get your heart broken so badly you’ll think it has turned to dust and left an empty chasm in your chest. You’ll think you’re dying. You’ll wish you were dead. A man will come along and put you back together stronger and better than you were before. He will help you live a life you never dreamed of in a place you’ve never heard of. It’s going to be everything you want and need.


Start a savings account now. Don’t touch it. Put all birthday, Christmas, graduation, and tax refund money in there. Leave it alone. Don’t tell anyone about except for mom. There will be times you’ll want to take from it. Trust me, save that money.


You’re going to be a great mom. Your kids are beautiful and unique gifts. They will inspire you, challenge you, frustrate you, and change you. There will be days you’ll want to ship them to Philly, and others you’ll never want to let them go. You’re doing a great job and they will be just fine, and so will you.


Meditate more. Don’t stop singing, writing, dancing, drawing, playing for anyone. You are a sensitive, sensitive, creative, powerful force to be reckoned with. Don’t let anyone dim that light because they can’t find theirs and they hate to see it in others. Breathe.


It’s going to be ok despite what that evil ferret in your head says. That’s all I have to say for now. You’ll make some friends. You’ll lose some, too. In the end it only matters how you handle it. You don’t always have to fight so hard to fit in. You never will so just revel in the glory that is your weird, beautiful, smart self. Be you. And maybe buy stock in Walmart.

Love yourself,

Yourself

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