Sonya writes: What would your 33 year-old self say to your 13 year-old self?
Okay, attempting to channel myself at 13...seventh grader at a 7-12th grade academic magnet school, falling in love with every junior and senior boy who walked passed me in the halls, all perms and bangs and glasses and braces and biker shorts. I was on the chubby side and clumsy, but was very interested in current music, movies, and fashion. Basically invisible to the popular people, especially the upperclassmen, but my friends and I were tight. Our clique was known for being goodie two-shoes, and within that group I was already deemed a bit of a loose cannon with the loud laugh.
First and foremost, I wanted to be a cheerleader. At the time, they represented all that was awesome about America. I loved the uniforms, even in our school's colors of brown, gold, and white, and dreamed about one day being able to get a set of my own, putting my hair up in a ribboned high ponytail, and having a smiley sorority of friends.
To that end, I auditioned for the junior high pep squad early in the year. It was my first time learning a choreographed routine, and my try-out was abysmal at best. Needless to say, I didn't make it, but one of my best friends did, and although I was crushed, I was sincerely thrilled for her. She actually went on to be a member of the pep squad every year, and was the varsity squad captain our senior year. She even let me try on her uniform (didn't zip up, but still thrilling)! And although I was sad, I knew I had a lot of specific skills to work on, so I wasn't too discouraged.
Life went on. I didn't try out for cheer in 8th grade, recognizing that my body was getting even more uncoordinated as I was going through some uneven growth spurts. But I did try out for junior varsity mascot, thoroughly convinced that my combination of goofiness and sassiness would be such a great asset to the noble field of Mascotry, but I still wasn't what they were looking for. Then every following year, I auditioned for mascot again, giving it my best at the time, and every year my biology teacher would frown sympathetically and tell me the bad news.
Until junior year, that is. I finally was able to dance convincingly enough and choreographed a hilarious routine with my audition partner. Because I would be a senior the following year, that officially made me varsity mascot captain! (Oh, the power and the glory! Ha ha ha!) But during mascot camp, something really clicked between me, my team, and my mascot instructor. We were awesome! I was even invited to audition to become an instructor myself. I was on top of my little bitty world, and I was so grateful for every second of it.
Therefore, I don't know what I would tell that 7th grade girl. She had more gumption and guts than I do now. If I told her not to attempt the things that would absolutely break her heart, would she really benefit? So much strength, courage, and humor came from that suffering.
I would just hug her and tell her to just do her thing, but maybe tell her to not get so sad when things do start to get harder in the later teen years. That people were and will be cruel to her, and to realize that it was their problem, not hers. That Kurt Cobain is going to kill himself the next year, and from then on, the romanticism of suicide will crawl into her psyche and take residence there, seemingly harmless, until it really threatens her life in college. Maybe just watch out for that, and don't let it cut her so deep.
Also, in college, keep her head up; keep going to class, no matter how dismally she performed on her first midterms. There is so much glory in redemption, none in self-destruction. Don't give up. Channel the girl who tried out for pep squad every single year with the same optimism and spirit.
Oh, and if she want to dance with that boy, go up to him and ask. Lots of dances wasted on waiting.
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