Dear 16 year old me

Thought I’d take my turn at slapping my past self into shape. If I ever invent a time machine I will be able to save time and just print out this post. Because you know I’m too lazy to both time travel and argue. By the way, I’m actually happy with who I am and where I’m at right now, but the me in the past really could have used an old fashioned ‘wake up to your senses’ slap.

Dear 16 year old me,

What the fuck are you doing?

Seriously.

You go around breaking up with perfectly good boyfriends in the hope that a loser will ask you out. Do you want the guy who can hold down a job and will make a good husband and father, or do you want the guy who ends up in jail for a really unexciting crime? Well you’ll get neither if you keep this up. Friday nights walking the streets all by your lonesome is what you’ll have. Sure you want to dump that nice guy?

While you’re at it, why not admit you aren’t as smart as you thought you were and ask for a tutor? Guess what, you’re going to get a D in maths, a D in legal, and a D in art. Yes, dear 16 year old me, you attended all your art classes, did all the work, and got a D. Don’t worry, I’m entirely baffled as to how that happened too, but it is obvious that teacher is an ass and you should really be questioning his grading right now. The not-so-bright-guy in your class who could only draw stick figures, cave painting style, gets an A. Yes, something suss there. Don’t accept that teacher’s grades, it will affect your university course!

Men’s clothes are for men. You are not a man. You are not even a lesbian. You are not even sexually confused. Boobs are fabulous and should be flaunted, and no, you are so very far from fat that you really should eat something. Pop down to the thrift shop with your $10 and get a dress. It will shock the hell out of your friends, and you love that, so double win.

People like your stories. The fact that they request stories about Gumby having gang bangs in elevators says more about them than it does you. Try writing a nice story and see where it goes. They might love those even more.

You are not in competition with the rich and advantaged kids. So what if they went on a school trip to the snow? You will grow up and go lots of places and your Mummy won’t have paid for your ticket like those pansies. Their clothes may be what a magazine says is trendy, but you’ll come to realise magazines are full of rubbish and those clothes are the ugliest things you can remember. Sod them, and their clique too.

Go to the dentist while you’re still a student and it’s government funded. You won’t get there again for at least 10 years. That’s right, TEN YEARS. Get your wisdom teeth pulled while you have family to nurse you, get your fillings done, get lots of happy pain-free drugs. Get everything done that they offer. Even braces. Free is free.

Your shoes are flammable (see below). They will melt and then catch fire. Your feet were not THAT cold. Remember this.

Well, it’s not everything, and it’s not the winning lotto numbers on your birthday, but it will suffice to save you some troubles. Good luck at uni, and for fuck’s sake, don’t wear that white dress with black undies on a rainy day.

Love

Michelle.