A Letter To My 12-Year-Old Self

 After reading the Pink Moss blog (www.pink-moss.com) I came across a project called "In My Daughter's Eyes" involving a plethora of letters written by women to their twelve-year-old-selves. Although I was much to late to submit my own, I figured I'd share mine with you all today.

Dear (barely) pre-pubescent, flat-chested me,

Let's not argue over over how in the world this letter is even possible, and get down to brass tax. There are things headed your way missy, and you need to start preparing yourself for them now.

First off, your boobs are coming. Actually, any day now. They won't gradually become present, they won't ease their way onto your body, they're going to sneak up and attack you like a ninja on a mission. Buy a bra and prepare yourself for some extra poundage and a life of mild back pain.

Next on the list, those cargo pants have got to go. Yes, I know they zip off into shorts. Yes, I know they were on sale at Old Navy. There's a reason for that. You look ridiculous. Also, since we're on the topic, in a few years when you get to high school if you ever put on that pair of white and black camouflage pants, I will take a personal day and come back there beat you with them.

Eventually, you're going to get into this thing called being "Goth". This is a trick. The sun is shining, the world is beautiful and you do not look good in black lipstick. Avoid this at all costs.

I don't want to expose too much, you've got some pretty interesting years ahead of you and I'd hate to spoil them, but here's a few things to remember: embrace things like the RX Bandits, ukuleles, electropop (I know you can't dance, and you don't get much better, but you're still allowed to have fun), eating carbs, playing basketball and crowdsurfing. Stay away from things like mushrooms (seriously, eventually your stomach will be able to take it but we've had some bad times), dairy (same concept), turtlenecks, Jamocha Yerba tea, Justin Beiber, and Smart Cars.

One day it will all make sense. You're a cool kid, but eventually you'll get the hang of it and realize that being a dork is really what works for you.

Your much cooler, much more proportionate, kickass older self.

P.S. Okay, I know we've been saying that we wanted to be Whitney Houston when we grew up since we were about five, but dude, trust me, it doesn't end well.


Kate said...

I def pretended i was Whitney Houston while while dancing in front of the mirror in my bedroom to the Bodyguard soundtrack (the movie with kevin costner)! awkward. liked the post

hannah isnt real said...

See, it would be cute and just enough if I were impersonating Whitney in front of my mirror or in the shower, or maybe even at a gradeschool talent show (oh, and I did), but I think until third grade everytime I was asked by an adult what I wanted to be when I grew up, that was the answer I gave them.

I'm destined to be a diva.
with less meth.