Dearest Little Bee... (Get Your Act Together & Other Tales)
A stereotypical class-time activity throughout my school years was to ‘write a letter with advice to your younger self.’ Frankly, I always thought that it was a waste of time, I did not want to relish on the past, and make myself face my younger self’s inabilities and mistakes, especially if they had not improved very much—-or at all. But now I think I have changed my thought process about writing a letter to my younger—-or rather, former self. Through my (almost) five years of therapy, I have been taught (and forced) to reference the past, time and again. Sometimes I roll my eyes and proceed to tell it with the same details that I always use, and sometimes even using the same words. But every once in a while, an old memory comes back, and I can remember it as vividly as
if it had happened the day before. Sometimes the memories are funny, but sometimes they are sad. Remembering certain details which I had not previously reminisced makes me take a step back, and think, ‘wow, I really have come a long way.’ So, here is my attempt at writing a letter to myself, a girl who believed that her life would be a continuous and bland pattern.
Dearest Younger Self,
If you’re 13, then you have braces (with light blue rubber bands, because those look the best), baby soft skin, and thick dark brown hair. You wear little makeup, and the bit that you do wear is poorly applied. You’re boisterous and chase boys down the hallway, because you think they’re stupid and a waste of your time. They know that you despise them. But what they do not know is that you deeply want their approval, you want them to think you are pretty and funny and interesting, but you would never let them know that. You’re an average student at school, you’re terrible at drawing, but you are part of a clique (yes, we worshipped the book series too). You do everything together. Sleepovers, school dances, and solo trips to the movies without the watchful eyes of any parents or babysitters.
What I wish I could tell my 13 year old self is this: be careful. Not all those who appear as friends will remain so. In fact, there are few who will remain with you into older teenage-hood. People come and go, that is the consistent inconsistency.
If you’re 16, then you are beginning to turn into a young adult. The braces are gone, the skin slightly muddled by pimples, but tall height is reached, and better grades are achieved. You still think boys are a waste of your time, but this is probably influenced by the fact that you now attend an all-girl’s Catholic school. You have the ideas of feminism and girl power cemented into your brain, and there are never-ending attempts at getting you to participate in Mass (Absolutely not!). You seek out rebellion, it seems so tempting, but you would never resort to being ‘that sort of girl.’ So you keep going along with your classmates and friends, never veering too far from the norm. You start to lose yourself in the crowd, becoming just another teenage girl, without many goals, aspirations or dreams. Maybe now is the one and only time in your life where you are living in the moment.
If you’re 17, then you’re a bit of a mess. You live for rebellion and breaking the rules. What’s one more shot of vodka? A pack of cigarettes? There must be more rules to break, more risks to take, but what?? At 17, you figure out that adulthood is going to be *amazing*, you just have to make it to 18 and break free to college and the restraints of the equal parts highly academic and highly judgemental hometown. Chomping at the bit is only part of your anxiety. You want to defy time and have everything move quickly, yet smoothly. You soon discover that you cannot control everything, which comes at a price. You start to restrict the amount of food you eat, and begin exercising, but it is never enough, you are never enough. The self-loathing and shame is overpowering; the need for external approval is practically heartbreaking. Just when you thought everything was going to be okay, it all falls apart. My advice to you is to sort your shit out, you have one life, and don’t waste it on petty nonsense like rebellion. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, only to yourself.
If you’re 18, then you are definitely still a mess. Granted, some aspects of your life have gotten a little better. You realised that you had a problem and sought help for it. You should be proud of yourself for doing so. Regardless of what the shrill and negative voices in your head say, you are strong, and you can beat this eating disorder. It may take some time, but it is possible.
Embarrassing memories and mistakes make me want to turn back time and fix it all, but that is impossible. To live with the guilt and shame of past mistakes is to learn for the future. I still make an unreasonable amount of mistakes, and I don’t think I offer very good advice, but I probably have learned a handful of lessons that have stuck with me. These are:
1. It is incredibly important to sleep, not sleeping results in heightened bitchiness.
2. Eat whatever the hell you feel like. I cannot even explain how happy drive-thru Dunkin Donuts makes me. I spent too much time denying myself the delicious (objective depending on who you are and if you like junk food) treats of modern day America. (This is where I praise American food and day dream of oreo milkshakes and fries).
3. When in doubt…bounce. If you’re not feeling a party, dinner, gathering, etc., get the hell out of there. There is no need to waste precious time doing something you don’t like. I know this is a pretty simplified justification for also being sort of lazy, but I try to be economical with my energy levels, especially because they’re pretty low to begin with. (For context, I’ve been working on this post for over four months).
4. Look both ways before crossing the road, both the literal road and the metaphorical road. Basically, don't be caught off guard.
5. Use a high quality shampoo and conditioner—-or prepare to look like a poorly groomed, electrocuted poodle. This makes you look like you have your life together, even if internally you’re running on anxiety, caffeine, chocolate crispy cake, and wearing leggings from Lululemon.
And that is all my sageness for today. Bless you if you read this whole ramble of a post.
*I would like to note that I got so much inspiration from Samantha Irby’s Bitches Gotta Eat (s/o to my friend for introducing me to the baddest lady in the whole US of A).
Dearest Younger Self,
If you’re 13, then you have braces (with light blue rubber bands, because those look the best), baby soft skin, and thick dark brown hair. You wear little makeup, and the bit that you do wear is poorly applied. You’re boisterous and chase boys down the hallway, because you think they’re stupid and a waste of your time. They know that you despise them. But what they do not know is that you deeply want their approval, you want them to think you are pretty and funny and interesting, but you would never let them know that. You’re an average student at school, you’re terrible at drawing, but you are part of a clique (yes, we worshipped the book series too). You do everything together. Sleepovers, school dances, and solo trips to the movies without the watchful eyes of any parents or babysitters.
What I wish I could tell my 13 year old self is this: be careful. Not all those who appear as friends will remain so. In fact, there are few who will remain with you into older teenage-hood. People come and go, that is the consistent inconsistency.
If you’re 16, then you are beginning to turn into a young adult. The braces are gone, the skin slightly muddled by pimples, but tall height is reached, and better grades are achieved. You still think boys are a waste of your time, but this is probably influenced by the fact that you now attend an all-girl’s Catholic school. You have the ideas of feminism and girl power cemented into your brain, and there are never-ending attempts at getting you to participate in Mass (Absolutely not!). You seek out rebellion, it seems so tempting, but you would never resort to being ‘that sort of girl.’ So you keep going along with your classmates and friends, never veering too far from the norm. You start to lose yourself in the crowd, becoming just another teenage girl, without many goals, aspirations or dreams. Maybe now is the one and only time in your life where you are living in the moment.
If you’re 17, then you’re a bit of a mess. You live for rebellion and breaking the rules. What’s one more shot of vodka? A pack of cigarettes? There must be more rules to break, more risks to take, but what?? At 17, you figure out that adulthood is going to be *amazing*, you just have to make it to 18 and break free to college and the restraints of the equal parts highly academic and highly judgemental hometown. Chomping at the bit is only part of your anxiety. You want to defy time and have everything move quickly, yet smoothly. You soon discover that you cannot control everything, which comes at a price. You start to restrict the amount of food you eat, and begin exercising, but it is never enough, you are never enough. The self-loathing and shame is overpowering; the need for external approval is practically heartbreaking. Just when you thought everything was going to be okay, it all falls apart. My advice to you is to sort your shit out, you have one life, and don’t waste it on petty nonsense like rebellion. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, only to yourself.
If you’re 18, then you are definitely still a mess. Granted, some aspects of your life have gotten a little better. You realised that you had a problem and sought help for it. You should be proud of yourself for doing so. Regardless of what the shrill and negative voices in your head say, you are strong, and you can beat this eating disorder. It may take some time, but it is possible.
Embarrassing memories and mistakes make me want to turn back time and fix it all, but that is impossible. To live with the guilt and shame of past mistakes is to learn for the future. I still make an unreasonable amount of mistakes, and I don’t think I offer very good advice, but I probably have learned a handful of lessons that have stuck with me. These are:
1. It is incredibly important to sleep, not sleeping results in heightened bitchiness.
2. Eat whatever the hell you feel like. I cannot even explain how happy drive-thru Dunkin Donuts makes me. I spent too much time denying myself the delicious (objective depending on who you are and if you like junk food) treats of modern day America. (This is where I praise American food and day dream of oreo milkshakes and fries).
3. When in doubt…bounce. If you’re not feeling a party, dinner, gathering, etc., get the hell out of there. There is no need to waste precious time doing something you don’t like. I know this is a pretty simplified justification for also being sort of lazy, but I try to be economical with my energy levels, especially because they’re pretty low to begin with. (For context, I’ve been working on this post for over four months).
4. Look both ways before crossing the road, both the literal road and the metaphorical road. Basically, don't be caught off guard.
5. Use a high quality shampoo and conditioner—-or prepare to look like a poorly groomed, electrocuted poodle. This makes you look like you have your life together, even if internally you’re running on anxiety, caffeine, chocolate crispy cake, and wearing leggings from Lululemon.
And that is all my sageness for today. Bless you if you read this whole ramble of a post.
*I would like to note that I got so much inspiration from Samantha Irby’s Bitches Gotta Eat (s/o to my friend for introducing me to the baddest lady in the whole US of A).
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