Happy Birthday: A Letter to My Teenage Self

Dear Me,

This week you will be approaching a milestone - the last few days you will be in your sixties, so I am writing a letter to your teenage self. 

Unfortunately at the time, but fortunately for your own good, the folks were right about everything they suggested you should do, and especially what you should not do. Right, they were speaking from their own experiences.  

It was wise to listen to your mother about washing your face every night before bed

and first thing in the morning with the expensive "beauty bar" she bought for you at the salon. Acne was kept to a minimum and it gave you good habits in future skin care. 

I know you felt out of place in the summertime because you were so pale in your bikini compared to your friends who had a healthy-looking tan from baby oil and summer highlights in their hair from lemon juice. The good news is that as a heat stroke victim, it paid off you could not stay in the sun very long. We didn't know the harm the sun can do to us like we know now. 

It was very bold of you to wear a tampon for the very first time when presented with your "monthly bill" the same day as a co-ed pool party. 

Do you remember feeling embarrassed when your Dad picked you up from school in the old '49 Studebaker pick-up instead of picking you up in one of the sporty cool cars that he bought for Mom, like the new '64 cherry red Comet Cyclone, the turquoise '66 Mustang, or the 1970 AMC Javelin SST Mark Donohue edition? As an adult, I can promise you, that you would do anything right now to have your Dad pick you up in that same old jalopy that you were once embarrassed by. 

 I understand it was a painful experience when your high school English teacher allowed her teacher's assistant to accuse you of plagiarism on a writing assignment. Yet, the TA could not even prove the source of the so-called plagiarism. To make matters worse, the teacher allowed the TA to make mean remarks, and even agreed, that you would never amount to anything, never become a professional writer, let alone ever have anything published. Aren't you glad you didn't let their bitterness and their own imposing insecurities keep you from doing something you love? 

Congratulations as in your adult years you will be collecting a few checks from the Seattle Times for 15-some years of writing about wine and food for their lifestyle magazines (Walla Walla and Yakima). Congratulations on the two local history books and two fiction books, with a third soon-to-be-released fiction book and a couple of history book proposals on the way. 

So, take that English teacher and your little TA, too. Bitch. It was wise to hang onto the encouraging words of your 8th-grade English teacher when he lavished compliments on your theme about the traveling pop bottle. When you get older, perhaps you will consider writing a murder mystery and killing off the teacher and her assistant?  

It seemed corny to play on the oboe, "Color My World," by Chicago. All the other pageant contestants were doing "cool" cheerleader-style dances. You also wanted to be "cool" and do some cheerleading dances on stage for your talent, but your band instructor-mentor was adamant about using your talents as an oboist and performing something not so typical for a symphonic woodwind, but something that was pop and trendy. Yeah, it still seems rather corny, but you have to admit your band instructor knew best. Which reminds me...

You learned a valuable lesson that if you ever had a daughter you would not make her be in a beauty pageant, no matter what the teachers or a local business sponsor suggests.

Through high school, you had some pretty cute boyfriends who escorted you to school dances. And even better, you will discover they grew up to be nice men who became contributors to society - with jobs, despite what your Dad said. He only said it out of concern. 

There is a reason why you still get these nightmares about being late for school or skipping out of class. Guilt has a way of surfacing when you least expect it.

It's good to hear that you do not feel any regret that you chose not to attend that expensive fashion college in California your father worked hard to pay your first-year tuition and instead stayed close to home to be with your father during his last days on this earth. 

You were smart to keep your old brown suede purse with the fringe and the studded peace symbol on the purse flap. It's iconic and is still a conversation piece at most parties.  

You either had poor judgment or truly acted like your father's daughter the day you stood up to your Dad regarding the music choices you played on his cool console stereo. Dad questioned you on the lyrics of Steppenwolf. The dialogue went like this:

Dad, "What did he say?" (with a stern voice)

Me, "He said, 'Gawd damn the pusher man...'" (yelling)

Dad, "Oh. That's what I thought he said." (quietly and then nonchalantly walked away)
End of conversation. 

You know it was against the law to sneak into bars while you were still a teenager, right? But good for you for not getting caught, but don't be bragging and telling everyone that I commended you for this - you little rebel, you.

Unfortunately through the years, you will lose some of your best friends to death. It will be friends that have been with you through your childhood and teen years. It will be painful and you will start thinking about your own mortality, but you will be blessed that you had these earth angels in your life. You will also be blessed with memories that cannot be taken from you. 

My only wish for you is that you would have been more of a renegade - a traitor to being the perfect girl who tried to follow the rules and not wear skirts past the required length. Perhaps a hitchhiker, a devout follower of the Grateful Dead, or maybe caught a cheap flight to Europe with other youngsters your age drinking bottles of cheap Cahors in France and living on bread and cheese. I wish you would have attended more peace marches and rock concerts. No worries or wishful thinking as it's still not too late to do these things anytime you want - - just remain young in your heart, no matter what your old brittle bones may tell you.  

Love Always,
Me