letter to 11 year old me

I just spend the last 45 minutes digging through the box of old photos, the kind you used to actual print before the digital era.  I was searching for a dandy picture of 11 year old me to accompany this post.  I dug through years of bad hair styles (this was not limited to me, I come  from a long line of bad hair), Cosby sweaters,  many awkward family photos including one where we’re all grouped around a casket smiling like we just won a million dollars.  Funny because I don’t recall that inheriting a million dollars or any money even, but we were certainly happy for some reason.  Unfortunately, I must have been a little camera shy around that age because there are no photos from about 11-13.  Either no one took any or they were all afraid of me (likely) or I have already destroyed the evidence of how ungraceful I was at that age. 

So please use you imagination and picture a fabulous photo of me here.  I would be wearing my favorite pink headband in my unwashed hair and smiling with some very crooked teeth.  I would probably be wearing makeup and if my memory serves me correctly, I would have matched my eye shadow to my shirt.  There’s a good chance it would be purple.  Unfortunately coming from a mother who doesn’t wear makeup I was on my own so naturally I also owned colored mascara and would have coordinated that accordingly.  I would be wearing a cheapy metal best friends necklace.  I always had the right half so it would have read “st ends” on my side of the broken heart.  I think that about covers it.  I know it’s just a photo but just to set the scene, I would have had some Wilson Phillips music playing in the background. 

 

As you can see I was in great need of advice, fashion and the like.  Not that I was interested in taking such advice from anyone.  In fact I had a lot of advice to offer everyone else because clearly I had it all figured out.  Since I haven’t changed all that much and still like to give that very advice, I am going back in time to send a little letter to 11 year old me. 

 

Greetings Erin,

Please put down that copy of Seventeen, your never goint ot look or dress like that anyway, and listen up.  I realize you have it all figured out and require absolutely no direction from me, but you may want to listen.  I know you better than you think I do and I can save you a great deal of suffering if you listen closely. 

Who you are:

You are Erin.  Don’t try to be anyone else.  Don’t hide what you perceive as your weaknesses.  People who would taunt you for living in a ramshackle house don’t deserve to be in your life anyway.  Believe me, they aren’t assuming you live in a castle anyway.  It will keep you humble which is a desirable adult trait.  It’s OK to be weird, at least when you’re an adult.  Don’t try to fit in so much and stifle your creativity.  Embrace your roots.  You turn out to be a really admirable person (at least in my slightly biased opinion)

Appearance:

No more perms, this includes home perms.  End of story.  If you are interested in living with no regrets, take this warning seriously.  You are not fat.  In fact, you will never be this skinny again.  You can see your feet.  You’re perfect, stop thinking about it.  You have the rest of your life to hate your body, enjoy it today.  On the appearance note, don’t sign up for the 4-H group dance performance.  You’ll end up winning and having to perform at the Wisconsin State Fair where you will be forever documented in the Milwaukee Journal dancing to a New Kids on the Block song called Hang In Tough.  You will dance with your brother and the paper will serve as evidence of your poor choice for the rest of your life.  If you ever fun for president this will be uncovered and your chances of winning will be ruined.

Bras

Quit wearing that bra, you’ll have the rest of your life to suffer with with underwire.  Enjoy the fact that you don’t actually require one now because after nursing four boys (yes, that’s what’s in your crystal ball) you will most certainly need one and Victoria Secret isn’t cheap either.  Start saving your money.   

 

Boys:

Just relax.  Stop trying so hard to make the boys like you.  Only the stupid ones will take notice anyway.  The most wonderful man will be coming your way in a few short years.  Just hang on and stop your foolish antics.  Seriously, the endless phone calls and the teasing are not really attractive anyway.  And dump Chad today, he ends up in prison later in life.  Just because someone is interested, doesn’t make them good boyfriend material and your mom is right, if they have chest hair, they aren’t boys. 

 

School:

Be a little kinder, don’t hate your teachers before they even have a chance to hate you.  Teaching is a really hard job and one day you will find yourself on the other side of the desk and believe me, it’s not easy.  Don’t spend so much time hating the popular girls.  It’s not entirely their fault that they’re popular and some of them are actually decent people.  After high school popularity means nothing anyway.  Believe that heath video that Mrs.. White forced you to watch, it really does hurt that bad to have a baby.  And don’t sign up for Spanish class.  Five years of Spanish with will not make you fluent.  Maybe spend some time in some intensive math.  Believe me, you’ll thank me when you take your college entrance exams.  Sitting through 7th grade algebra in college is embarrassing.  If your hesitating about breaking into the school and stealing that runty lab rat, go with your gut and do it.  She’ll be the best pet you’ll ever have. 

Family:

Quit wasting time thinking about how you can punish your sister today.  She’s not actually trying to destroy your life.  In fact, she turns out kind of nice.  Spend a little more time with your family instead of with your friends and your boy of the month.  Work with your Dad in the garden, one day you will have a real interest and no experience.  Your family isn’t going to be together like this forever. 

Plans:

Don’t get so caught up in following the plan.  You change your mind as often as you change your boyfriend.  Even though massage therapy sounds really cool and mystical it’s really just a job and once you’ve rubbed one back, you get kind of sick of it.  Keep an open mind and consider real college.  It’s far easier to do it when you’re 17 than when you have a big pregnant belly and more little babies at home. 

Life:

Enjoy not having to work for a paycheck only to give all that money to Publix and the electric company and to put gas in your minivan (sorry, that comes along with the four boys).  Embrace sleeping in and acting impulsively with relatively few consequences.  Your life turns out wonderful, although far from what you imagine right now.  Don’t spend too much time worrying about it.  You’ll end up in a good place. 

 

Warmest Regards,

Your friend from the future