Five Things I’d Tell the Teen Me

Recently, I saw an article on Chick Lit Is Not Dead guest-authored by Jen Lancaster, the unfairly funny author of books like Bitter is the New Black.  Start with that one and move forward through the rest; that’s what I did.  Anyway.  The article she wrote was, indeed, her version of what she would tell her teen self and that got me thinking…what would I tell me, if I thought for a second that teen me might halfway listen?

Because my mother would tell you that the likelihood of me listening would’ve been slim-to-none, but you know…whatever, Ma (love you!).  It’s not as though I was always averse to receiving legitimate and well-meaning advice, unless I perceived it as someone trying to tell me what to do.  My wonderful, sensitive boyfriend tells me I have oppositional defiant disorder but I’m all like, no I don’t.  I’m just careful in what I accept into my world.  Everyone always says, “Don’t believe everything you hear,” right?  So.  There you have it.  I will simply disbelieve things until I’m presented with evidence that my beliefs are wrong.

Except for ghosts.  I believe in ghosts.  Fire away with the evidence, folks, because I don’t care.

Annnnnnnnnnddd…now we can return to the point of this blog, which is, what five things would I tell my logically-inconsistent teen self?

1) Put down the cigarettes.  I suffered from a misguided sense of what it meant to look cool, so I started smoking as soon as I could; it took me a little more than twenty years to stop again.  Once I quit for good, and got over the hump of quitting, and got the requisite string of colds you tend to get after quitting and hacked up mysterious humours that were hiding in the depths of my lungs I realized…even though I was feeling crappy because I was going through the various stages of withdrawal, I felt…good.  Not great, but good.  I was processing energy more efficiently, I had less of a brain fog, my skin felt more vibrant and I thought…damn…for how long did I let myself walking around feeling bad?  And how did that factor into decisions I made?  How many times did I think, I just feel shitty, so why bother?  How did this limit me in ways I can’t even fathom yet?  Sure, the health concerns that surround smoking are also real, but metaphorically speaking, if it makes you feel bad…don’t do it.

2) You don’t have it all figured out.  And you never will; you’re not that clever.  When you think you do have it all figured out, hit yourself in the face with a hammer and go back to square one.

3) There are better ways to prove you’re an adult than by getting married.  I met my future ex-husband at the tender age of seventeen and was engaged four months later.  There are many ways in which I can in all legitimacy claim that the friction between the two of us helped shaped me into the mental giant who stands before you today.  But I didn’t marry him for his friction, she said unwinkingly.  I married him because I fell victim to the blue-collar thinking that the only way to leave my parents’ house was by marriage.  I could go on about why, but I won’t, because it doesn’t change the fact that there are, indeed, other avenues toward adulthood one can pursue.  Careers!  Weirder and groovier jobs!  School!  More school!  Travel!  All of these are more than acceptable paths to take and none of them necessitate marrying young and moving no more than ten miles away from your parents.

4) Celebrate your natural athleticism.  Think about all the ways it feels good to move around, and then do them.  Keep skating.  (I don’t mean “skating through things untouched”, I mean “strap blades to the bottom of your feet and hit the ice”.)  Try martial arts.  When things break or wear out or stop working for whatever reason…and they will…you’re going to have to kick your ass hard at the gym to start getting it back.  Defend against that inevitable future and embrace your inner jock.

5) Keep writing.  Write like your life depends on it.  Write like it’s your life preserver.  In a lot of ways, it is.

And a bonus!

6) You’re right to trust your instincts about that hairdresser.  When you walk into Supercuts and they assign you a hairdresser that causes you to instinctively recoil?  Walk away.  Or else, accept that you’re going to have a boy-haircut and will have to spike it for the next few months and will be that weird girl with the spiky hair, until it grows in enough to not be a boy-haircut anymore.

Advertisements

8 responses to Five Things I’d Tell the Teen Me

  1. Burton C. Bell

    You have Oppositional Defiance Disorder?… Honestly… I don’t see it…:)
    Great advice for people of any age, too bad that the only people that would never listen would be our teenage selves…. damn me to hell for my stubborn and obstinate attitude.

    I also believe in ghosts… I have experienced a couple… I am with you on that sister…

    Like

    • beyondpaisley – Author

      You know, Burt, I call you killer ’cause you slay me. You don’t see it indeed… 😀

      Smart money would be on me not listening. But you know…given the opportunity and access to a time machine… *shrug* Though really, if I had a time machine I doubt I’d dash off to visit me in high school…perhaps that’s another blog in the making. I smell an idea!

      Like

  2. Amy

    OK, fine, teens don’t listen. Truth. Therefore thanks for this darn good advice I can record and endlessly loop on speakers in my little kids’ room while they sleep until their learning window slams shut at 13. I will also add “Whoever doesn’t like you ain’t worth a damn” to your list. That’s one I needed to understand a little sooner. Great post!

    Like

    • beyondpaisley – Author

      Well, if they never start smoking you can simply remove that one and insert “Whoever doesn’t like you…” in the smoking slot. And you ain’t kidding how important that one is. Though no matter WHAT, I would make sure I leave the one about following your instincts with a hairdresser. Truth to power.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s