Note to My Younger Self

You're welcome.

Years I spent in middle school: 3

Years it seemed like I spent in middle school: 14

Months until my son starts middle school: 5

Note to my sister: You are welcome. I removed all evidence of your bad outfits and side ponytails and left the horrific facts about my own childhood in. Although, to be honest, you were pretty much always cute anyway.

Dear Middle School-Aged Self,

I know it seems like you will never finish the worst years of your life. But you will, I promise. Until then, enjoy your fantasies about either moving to a different town far, far away or escaping to medieval England where things were much easier.

I thought I would help you by sending a letter back in time so you can see that things worked out fine; kind of a reverse of the time capsules teachers keep making you do. I mean, look at that cute kid in the picture frame up there. You marry him. Yes, you’re welcome. Now that we’ve settled that, here are a few things that will help you see that this too, shall pass.

1. You never get cool. I know. You were hoping for good news. But it’s okay, really. You meet some truly amazing people, make lots of friends over the years and have memories you wouldn’t trade for a winning lottery ticket. And the greatest part is, the people who really matter don’t care that you’re not cool.

2. You are now the ugliest you will ever be for the rest of your life. That horrible haircut and questionable color combinations you’re wearing now? Gone. You have survived them, and since Mom and Dad have recorded them for posterity, you are providing all of us middle-aged people with lots to laugh about.

Also, a big plus about being ugly as a pre-teen is that a.) you get it over with, and b.) you still have friends. Look around you: there are people who are willing to be friends with you now who can look past the braces and bad skin and horrible haircut. I guess Mom was right about it building character.

Oh, wait. She said that about driving an ugly car–I forgot to tell you that part. You will get a huge, ugly car when you’re 16. Just look out the window in the driveway–it’s the one Dad got when you were four. Yep. That’s the one. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that plaid interior is yours, baby. And whether it’s a car or your face, having an ugly one can be a weird, cosmic character builder.

3. You really will remember your locker combination. Don’t stress.

4. The things you admire now may not be the same things you covet later on. The ankles on that girl in your homeroom? The ones you think bunchy, outfit-matching socks look so cool on? Future people actually come up with a name for those: cankles. When you grow up, you’ll be glad you have skinny ankles. Get over it and move on.

5. No one will ever proposition you to take drugs in the way you’re expecting. I am so proud of you for listening to Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No” advice. And I know the words are right there, ready to be spoken just in case someone tries to push some cocaine or heroin on you in between second and third period at your locker. But you can relax. Your un-cool vibe communicates your “no” message just fine in a non-verbal way. And you know what? Good job.

6. Mom was right about the popular kids. You’re not a popular kid, and shoot, you never will be. But all those times when Mom said that they had weird s*&$ going on in their lives that I couldn’t imagine, she was right. Everyone has to fight his or her own battles.

Even when you get into high school, and you see the cute cheerleader with the awesome car with painted, matching wheels, try to keep in mind that her life is not the bowl of cherries you seem to think it is. You have a mom and dad who love you, a sister you can laugh about your mom and dad with, and good friends around you. You are about 20 steps ahead of the pack, girlfriend.

7. Free time: cherish it and stop worshipping that cute boy. Yes, silly, I know he’s cute. And those boys who make you laugh in science and math class are funny. Start concentrating on yourself.

Geez. Learn some binary code and programming skills.

Keep reading as many books as you can get your hands on. Never again will you have so much time to read, play at the pool and jump around to your favorite music.

Stop thinking that you’re bored. One day, when you’re almost 40, you will wonder how you can fit everything you want to do into a 24-hour time frame. But now, time is yours. Wrap it around you, and give yourself a big hug. You’re going to need it.

Wait. I forgot to caution you: don’t select Eastern Europe as your newspaper project when you get to high school. You think that not much happens there, and it will be an easy A. But lots of stuff goes down, my friend. Truly. You know the Berlin Wall? Oh. I guess I can’t tell you. But just trust me on this one.


24 thoughts on “Note to My Younger Self

  1. Love this, especially #6 and you’re spot on with the programming skills:) Will save this for when my daughter turns 11:)

  2. crubin says:

    Thanks for a good Friday afternoon laugh. There definitely is no cool in the middle school years. 🙂

  3. Andria D says:

    I think this is my favorite of your blog entries so far. I guess once again everyone can relate to it. It’s made me think of what I’d say to myself, and I don’t know if I would have thought of as good advice as you did.

  4. jmmcdowell says:

    Even the “cool” kids probably look back on those days and hope no one has any more incriminating photos.

  5. Elizabeth says:

    My mother gave my 11 year old self some good advice and it has served me, and my two daughters, well. You don’t want to peak in the 6th grade. If 11 is the best year of your life, the rest of your life is pretty depressing.

  6. Daryl says:

    And you are still at your peak.

  7. Holly says:

    Thank you for not showing my 80’s heinousness. I appreciate your saying I was cute, but I know you’re just saying that because you’re family. I know the truth. 😉

    Amazing post! So true and so funny, too. I STILL have nightmares about forgetting my locker combination.

  8. Running in Mommyland says:

    You’ve done it again! Made me laugh out loud and cringe a little, too. Lockers combinations still haunt me. Love, love love this post!

  9. Melissa says:

    I was a dork then and I still am. Bothered me then…don’t care now 🙂 I just grew into it. Thanks for sharing with me.

  10. Anne-
    Great post. Too bad we couldn’t take our own adivce. But I bet writing this was therapeudic. 🙂

    • annewoodman says:

      Yes, writing is always therapeutic–this post more than most. Wonder what my 80-year-old self would say to me today? Fodder for another post, I’m sure.

  11. erica says:

    Love it!
    If you want to test your memory, try to remember what you were worrying about one year ago today. – E. Joseph Cossman
    I wish it had been so easy to realize that all our huge “problems” would not be that big of a deal even one year later!

    • annewoodman says:

      Yes, but my grandmother always reminded my mom, and then me, that even kindergartners’ worries are big… to them. I keep that in mind when my kids bring their worries to me; perspective only comes as you get farther away.

  12. […] how my son was starting middle school, […]

  13. Joyce says:

    Ok, BREAKING NEWS: You ARE cool! How do I know? Because I am cool, and I only hang with cool people. So you need to resend this letter back to your pre-teen self. Tell her to make sure that she signs up for the UNC TV internship in college and that she needs to seek out this super cool, slightly awkward, gorgeous creature friend named Joyce. You’ll become lifelong, slightly delusional mommy friends, and I promise that you won’t regret it. 😉

    • annewoodman says:

      You’re right… I haven’t regretted a moment of our delusional mommy-ness. ; ) There’s so much to learn between 6th grade and 40, isn’t there? It makes me tired.

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