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20 January 2017

A Letter To My Younger Self



Hello you!

I hope you can find the time to read this short letter in between chatting to your friends on MSN Messenger, and swooning over the latest pictures of Orlando Bloom {Spoiler - you won't be that attracted to him in a few years' time. No reason in particular; your love will just slowly fade. It's probably for the best.}

I want to cheer you up. I want to give you hope that things will get better. For example, I promise that you won't always feel as ugly and ungraceful as you do now. Your hair will grow longer, those braces will come off, leaving you with beautifully straight teeth, and you'll get some glasses that you actually like and wear out of choice. Your self-confidence will grow. You'll be happier in your own skin - and forgive me for being blunt, but for goodness' sake stop worrying about the size of your chest. I can assure you that in a decade's time, you will be 100% happy with it and not want to change it at all. Trust me.


You will start to focus less on your weaknesses, and celebrate your strengths.  You'll gain such pleasure from the truly simple things in life; a Sunday roast with Mum and Dad, a walk in the countryside - oh yes, that. You'll start to enjoy walking - you'll even buy a pair of really fancy walking boots and climb a few mountains. I know, right?!

You currently spend a lot of your time agonising over love - when will you have a boyfriend, how long do you have to wait before you meet someone? But don't fret. He's worth the wait. You'll find someone who makes you laugh every single day, who loves everything about you {or so he says} and makes you feel utterly complete. He's pretty great {although he's a messy bugger - thank God we're tidy freaks, eh?}

You'll argue less with Mum and Dad as you get older. You'll start to respect them more, and understand what people mean when they say that parents know best. Dad will still make rubbish jokes though. I think they're actually worse now, if that's even possible...

Don't be scared about leaving home. You've still got lots of time before you move out, and I know that you're really frightened about it at the moment. But don't be. You're all going to cope with it brilliantly, and if anything, your relationships become even stronger.




 You'll always love chocolate and books. So don't worry about that.

Those friends you have now? K, A, B, S, A? You'll be just as close to them after 17 years, plus you'll meet more wonderful people along the way who you are lucky enough to call your friends.

You're desperate at the moment to go clubbing for the first time, and I know you're planning on going out every weekend once you're old enough. You won't believe it now, but you're going to find the whole experience disappointingly underwhelming, tiring, and pretty gross. You'll much prefer opening a bottle of wine at home with your other half and settling down to an episode of Downton Abbey. {Soz, another spoiler - it's a period drama with Maggie Smith from the Harry Potter  films. Speaking of which, make sure you go and see Order of the Phoenix - it's great!}

Oh, how you're going to travel in the next couple of years - Europe, America, Canada, Africa. And I'm afraid that the travel bug will cling on and you'll be chronically infected.

Ditch the black and pink punk-style wrist bracelets that you have squirreled away in your jewellery drawer. They don't look good. Sorry.

Carry on working hard. Your efforts will pay off - you will go to university, you will get the degree that you have always dreamed of, and yes, you will have a job {and get paid!}

You'll fall out of love with Primark. And you know that brand which all the Mums at school like - Joules? You'll be lusting after those Breton tops and wellies like they're the new Orlando Bloom in town.

You'll start drinking coffee. You'll get a bit addicted to the stuff. But rest assured, we still don't like tea.

Most importantly of all? You're going to be happy. You're going to be loved. You're going to be healthy.

And that's all that matters.

Love,

Me

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