A letter to myself

Dear me-when-I-was-nineteen,

Stop wearing so much makeup. You look ten years older than you really are. Stop making yourself sick over those love handles. They’ll disappear. Talk to people. Some of them are really nice. Stop feeling misunderstood. That constant sad look on your face is depressing it breeds more sadness and contempt. Stop lying to your parents about everything. Anything that you have to lie for is not going to be worth it in a few years. 

Lying in the college corridor reading Stephen kings and listening to Sinead o Conner is something your going to miss all your life. The stupid and meaningful stuff you read today will help you write better 5 years from now. Show your literature teacher your personal essays.You might not know it but you’re smart and funny. So stop with all your insecurities.   

You shouldn’t have destroyed your immature writing. Some of it was really good. Don’t feel bad for talking back to your psyche teacher. She was a bitch and deserved it. You will see her in the future and you will still have the urge to spit on her. But you’ll change into a goody two shoes, hold back everything, conventional and conservative almost religious person. You’ll say hello to her like she did you no wrong. Hard to believe huh? 

You’ll also stop singing like a crow and dancing like a leper when you’re happy. You’ll keep your emotions in check all the time. Your parents will never like you as much as your sisters so stop trying to please them so much. You will get over him. I know it seems impossible today. But it will happen. I promise. It doesn’t mean you won’t think of him once in a while but in a less wistful way. They’ll be plenty of boys that will feature in your life in small and insignificant ways. You won’t care about any of them. You’ll get to dump all of them. HA!

You’ll get to write. You’ll be published. Not so much of your creative stuff. But a writing career is something you only dreamed of. You’ll be thin. Not as thin as you would like to be but thin none the less. You wont grow taller, im afraid. You’ll find yourself the greatest pet in the world. You’ll eventually afford some brands. You’ll travel quite a bit. You’ll find a best friend who will make everything all right for you. Regardless of how complex the situation is. 

Oh yea wax don’t shave! Thread don’t pluck! Oil that dry hair and freaking moisturize! Cap sleeves are not your friend. Leggings and Skinny jeans will be back so be very very afraid. You’ll live through an almost plane crash. But it wouldn’t be as scary as that nightmare vicky B haircut you’ll get.

Listen to music. Good music. It spurs your creativity. Write. Write. Write. Good…Bad…everything…stop judging yourself…you have enough people in your life doing that already. Don’t rethink. You’ll get to redo anyway. Prove people wrong. Wear high heels. Walk it fierce! Wear bright red lipstick. FLIRT for god’s sake! Have fun. 

Take chances. Love yourself. Let go. SCREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM
If you haven’t guessed it already YOURE FABULOUS. And if you don’t take care of your fabulousity itll be gone before you know it and you’ll be left writing another woulda coulda shoula letter to yourself.


Toodles. (Say stupid stuff like that)

Me at 24