Writing to my 13-year-old self

There's a "write a letter to your 13-year-old self" trend going around the blogosphere. I recently wrote a letter to my 18-year-old self. One of the things I said was:

Read Harry Potter. Read the complete works of Miss Manners. Read the In Death series. Read Introvert Advantage. Read Malcolm Gladwell. Watch Eddie Izzard's comedy and every interview he's ever done. These will all not only entertain you, but help you navigate the world better.

But almost none of these things existed when I was 13! Harry Potter was still five years away. Miss Manners existed. In Death was two years away. The neuroscience underlying Introvert Advantage hadn't even been discovered yet. Malcolm Gladwell wasn't writing his Malcolm Gladwellish stuff yet. Eddie had only just done Live at the Ambassadors, and on top of all that the Web was only just in its infancy. The things my 13-year-old self needed to self-actualize had not yet been created!

Even if they had existed, I wouldn't necessarily have been able to access them. Not just because of the logistical difficulties of accessing information in 1993, but because of the logistical difficulties of being 13! Miss Manners, Introvert Advantage, and Malcolm Gladwell I could easily check out of the library (although Miss Manners would have gotten comments from any family members and bullying from any peers who saw me reading it.) In Death I might not have been allowed because of the sex, and Harry Potter I might not have been allowed because it's too easy (my parents never censored my reading for mature content, although my 13-year-old self never tried to read anything as hot as In Death, but I'd at the very least get a talking-to if I was reading anything my father considered too easy). But Eddie? Transvestite comedian who says fuck a lot? Could never have gotten away with it. Eddie inspires me, makes me brave (insofar as I am brave), and is single-handedly responsible for at least 50% of the people skills I've developed since I first encountered his work, but my parents would have taken the video away and tried to have A Talk with me and supervised me annoyingly closely if I had ever brought that home to watch.

No wonder I can't think of anything useful to tell my 13-year-old self!

So...

Dear 13-year-old self:

One day, you will get on a subway in Toronto (I know, it sounds big and scary, but you're just like those grownup women you envied on the Tube in London!) and see Big Bully sitting in the train. Fortunately, you'll look fantastic! Your hair isn't oily (Google up hairdressers specializing in long hair once you move to Toronto. Don't worry, the verb "google" will be meaningful by then.), your skin looks smooth (They're soon going to invent something called Touche Eclat. Get some as soon as you can afford it.), your outfit is flattering and grown up, you're wearing funky shoes by your favourite designer (You have a favourite shoe designer, by the way, which you chose entirely out of personal taste and completely without the influence of fashion magazines.) and just wait until I tell you what your bra size is! You also happen to be engaged in witty conversation with a very attractive man. In French. (French will give you your career. Learn your prepositions even when they're stupid!) Sure, he's gay (which isn't a problem, BTW. You'd do best to just not express any opinion on sexual orientation before the 21st century.) and you're talking about work, but Big Bully doesn't know that! It's not like she speaks French! You won't even cast a casual glance in Big Bully's direction, instead staying engrossed in your conversation with the attractive man. Then you'll get off at your stop (one of the better neighbourhoods in Toronto - BTW, you earn more dollars than you thought you ever would, although inflation makes that less impressive than it sounds) and go home to your beautiful apartment, never to see Big Bully again.

Don't worry, you'll be in love for real to. You'll be kissed and, crazy as it sounds, even have sex in ways that are far better than you've imagined yet. (Look up the word "cunnilingus" in the glossary of that book Mom gave you about your changing body.) You'll have friends too, real friends to whom you can admit you like Star Trek! But that one moment on the subway will be the only time you ever see any of your bullies. They are irrelevant to your life now. And all they know about you is that one glimpse Big Bully got of you on the train - a witty conversation in French with an attractive man, while looking fantastic.

I can't tell you anything to make it better right now, but I can tell you it will get better. The adult world isn't like what you're going through at all, and you can navigate it just fine without being able to navigate the 13-year-old world. Never mind what any of the grownups around you say: the adult world is WAY easier.