A Letter from My 13 year Old Self to My 33 year Old Self



Dear Dena,
First of all let me say that your husband is a hottie, good job. I always watched those romantic teen comedies, and thought those guys were just too good to be true. It appears that you definitely scored a jock with a heart of gold, which was always our favorite. They say you can't really "change" people but there is something about a good "makeover" that always got us going.

Also, speaking of boys, I am proud of you for picking someone who seems to clearly be hella into you. That habit we have of only liking boys that are mean to us? That is some playground BS. I mean, come on, right? There's probably some kind of self-esteem thing going on there that I can't totally appreciate, but I'm glad you worked it out.

While we are at it - I know you will never be a Kate Moss willowy, tiny, ethereal beauty, but it seems like you really have figured out how to work with all of this. I'm so glad that hunching thing I did when we got tall and our boobs came in wasn't permanent. I can see from looking at you now that our mother was actually right about standing up straight. Gawd, I hate it that she's always right. Ugh.

While we are on the topic, I like really, really like your clothes. There was some dubious choices in the 2000s (two words: whale tale) but it seems like you're as close as you will ever get to being Liv Tyler in, well, anything. I'm so glad you still love her as much as I do - she really is so cool. You know that one spaghetti strap tank top you got from the Delia's catalogue would still be a great addition to your wardrobe, what did you do with that? I really hope you didn't get rid of it, that shit was timeless and perfect.

I can't believe you still get pimples, tho. Everyone told me I would grow out of that. That is what I get for listening to "everybody." I hope we didn't discover that whole sunscreen thing too late tho, I think about "tanning" now and it's so gross. Should I also try baking myself? What about basting? Saute? Dice? Now that you have actually treated your body like deli poultry I can see the ways in which this kind of this is actually so gross. I know we are just like, meat, but, um, gross.


At some point we should talk about this whole cancer thing but I just don't know what to say. It sucks. It's so scary. I wish that I could do something to prevent it from happening. I hope it's not my fault. I hope that I didn't do something that was like the butterfly wings and the tsunami. Something I ate? Something I drank? Something I touched? Standing in front of the microwave? Sleeping with my pager? Not listening to my mother? Standing with the "cool kids" while they smoked cigarettes? It hurts my head just thinking of all the possibilities. Was it that one time I ate non-organic grapes without washing them first? It is so hard not knowing why this is happening to you and I wish I could do something differently to make it unhappen.

You know I would if I could.

Is it my fault? I really hope it's not, but it seems like it might be. If so I am sorry. But I hope it's some kind of mutant genetic thing. Maybe your super powers are coming in soon.

Speaking of super powers, where was all this juicy dystopian fiction when you were a kid? Did I miss it? I feel like there were years wasted when you were reading supermarket romances instead of books with badass heroines fighting against societal injustice while embroiled in a love triangle. So. Good.

I'm just going to say this, but like, you can never bring it up again. I think you turned out pretty OK, I mean for a boring grown up. Like you've got the cute husband and so many great shoes and bracelets and stuff. I know I expected you to have a house and some kids by now. I think I thought 33 was like, older than you seem. I know you want them, but I'm glad you got to have all the adventures you did and it seems like that might not have been possible with a mortgage or some kids. I'm only 13, but I know when I babysit it's all I can do to feed myself and keep those monsters adorable creatures happy at the same time.

I think maybe sometimes you are a little too hard on yourself. Like, I get that you could be doing more of like, everything all the time, but to me it seems like you have a lot of cool stuff and you are better off than a lot of people. That gratitude tattoo on your wrist is cool, but like it would be so lame to have it if you weren't like, doing it? I mean, right?

Anyways, I have to wash my hair, it's kind of gross that you only do it once a week? But, I mean like, whatever. Grown ups. 

xoxo
Dena 







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