I turned twenty while surrounded by a group of excellent people who were once strangers to my life (except my parents and even though they were only in the same room ten minutes tops it was still a good gesture) and as I am now four days wiser than the fresh twenty year old I was four days ago I bestow upon you a list of words I would throw at my teenage self if I had the chance:
Stop worrying about what mum thinks. She’s going to love you in the end no matter how much of a poop you end up being. She’s your mother. Tell her what’s up. Things will be fine.
Take more walks. They’ll clear out your head and make you a better person when dealing with other people.
Be nicer to your grandmother. That living arrangement is not permanent.
There’s a whole shelving unit closer to the back of the library that’s got the wonderful world of real world murder in it and you’re going to love it as soon as you tear yourself away from fiction directed at young teens. Don’t read those once it’s dark though you’ll give yourself nightmares.
Invest in learning grammar rules etc. It’s going to make learning languages in any kind of institution a lot easier if you learn the rules of language.
Wear the weird shirt. You’re going to end up donating it and hating yourself for it because it’s beautiful and real bizarre and you’re never going to have it in the bottom of your drawers again because if your friends can’t handle you looking like Prince Charming then you’ll make friends who can.
Pick up a pen. Ignore the pencils. You use too many lines. YOLO that drawing.
Stop calling people “dude” unless you’re going to use “radical” and “tubular” in the same sentence.
Voice your opinion. You get stepped on and thrown around but nothing is going to change until you say or do something about it.
You’re a fighter. Fight through it.
Don’t be so obsessive over that boy. You know the one. And that other one. Or that other guy. Don’t be so obsessive over anyone, it’s not good for you. Eat pasta instead.
Who cares if it’s hipster.
Relying on someone else isn’t going to kill you. Stress isn’t going to kill you. Being a little late or having to wait for someone isn’t going to kill you. Getting yourself out of an uncomfortable situation isn’t going to kill you. Don’t let anything less get you back to that numb point. Nothing besides death itself can kill you. Nothing more, nothing less.
Twenty isn’t really a big deal. The difference between nine and ten was probably the most ground breaking thing of my life. Eighteen was good too. Twenty is one step too late from Let Me Do What I Want and one step too early from I Can Do What I Want.
Du bist der Beste,
Annie.
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