Dear 13-year-old self,
Hi. It’s me. You, but 5 years and some change older. Just wanted to write to you, now that we have the grace and separation of over half a decade between us. A few updates to catch you up on me. You finally hit 5’3. You grew a cup size. You’re in college now. You had your first kiss. It was in the shallow end of a pool. It was with a girl, but come on, let’s be real, you could’ve predicted that one. You also made out with your science teacher’s son after prom though. That one’s a funny story, but I digress. Most importantly though, you finally grew out your hair and said bye-bye to that god-awful pixie cut. Seriously girl, what the fuck were we thinking on that one. You looked like Rachel Maddow.
Regardless, I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. Snapchat memories and nostalgic empty-nester parents tend to do that to a person. As hard as I tried to erase you from my memory (and my camera roll), you really made an impact. Not a lot of kids can say they maintained a weirdly large following on Tumblr from 2016-2017. And not a lot of kids can say they were rumored to have a lesbian harem in the 7th grade.
I don’t want to totally butterfly-effect fuck up your– our– life, but before I sign off I do want to warn you of some stuff. First off, when you don’t get your period for a full 9 months, it’s not because you’re pregnant. You literally haven’t even held hands with a boy, I promise you there are no babies in your future. Second, please stop shopping in the men’s section of Pacsun. That bowling shirt is not cool and ironic. It’s just fugly. Third, do yourself a favor and give up on skateboarding. You never get any better and it’s going to be really embarrassing when you realize the hours you (unsuccessfully) tried to learn to do a kickflip are available to view on the garage Ring camera. And finally: please, please, please put down the Manic Panic. Your hair dye era is going to be catastrophic; you are, like, way too pale to pull off electric purple. I’m doing us both a favor.
Being 13 is weird, but hopefully, you can see the light at the end of the tunnel. When in doubt, just think about how cool, sexy, and epic your future looks. Keep your chin up, I promise it gets better than 7th grade for the most part! Now get back to whatever math homework that you’ll inevitably end up crying about after you ask Dad for help with it. Love you for better or for worse…