Notes to Self

Notes to Self

So, I’ve been thinking.  If I could go back in time I would. Wouldn’t we all?  Only I would go back with a notebook and a few notes (okay, so maybe not a notebook. Maybe just my iPhone with some notes on it, but you get the point.)

So here they are. A few of the notes I thought might be useful to myself. 

5-year-old self – For God’s sake go with the flow of things. The swing may not be free right now, but wait a few minutes and that German kid, Gunter, will get off and you’ll have your turn. Timing is everything. Don’t give in to holding the pencil like everyone else… you are unique and so is your fine motor control. This will give you an edge and many conversation starters.

12-year-old self – Stop biting your nails. Stop biting your cuticles too. No, it is not cool and it will be very very very difficult to stop later. Oh, and while you’re at it stop “trying on” your sister’s glasses pretending to be a doctor. That is not cool either.

15-year-old self – Don’t hate yourself or your hair. You will soon learn that your hair can be straightened with something called a hairdryer and a Syrian guy named Fadi who hasn’t been born yet will work magic on your otherwise nest-like ’fro.

17-year-old self – Don’t be afraid to call people out for being rude to waiters or anyone at all. This interest in injustice will lead you to pursue a master’s in human rights and land jobs at the United Nations and with several ministers. Prime too.

20-year-old self – Embrace your wittiness and keep it alive by making those quirky comments because you are not nor will you ever be the pretty girl, but that’s okay because in my book, quirky wins hands down.

25-year-old self – Focus on being the first, the best, or different. At the rate you’re going it’s definitely not the first two. But that’s okay, different is good. Not great but good.

30-year-old self – Don’t complain that you’re busy and exhausted. You haven’t had kids yet and you are talking through a hole in your head.

Current self – Don’t be so hard on…well, yourself. You are the pretty girl (well with concealer and heels and when you’ve been going to the gym) and you can damn well bite your cuticles if it means that much to you.

Your differentness shines bright and – well, to those who don’t get you, let it all slide… Now go out and have some fun before your children wake up crying and another five years are gone in a blur of other people’s needs and requests.


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