A few days ago my Aunt Trisha stumbled upon these never before seen (by me) photos. She took them when I was around 13 and on a camping weekend with my Aunt and Uncle in Cherry Log, GA.
A few things struck me:
I was smiling.
I was cuter than I thought I was; I just thought my Mom HAD to say I was cute.
My hair wasn’t as hideous as I thought it was. (although soon after my Grandma took me to her ‘beautician’ and gave me an ‘easy to take care of look’—Yes, a boys’ haircut!) I wanted so badly to have hair like Blair on The Facts Of Life, but instead, I looked more like Tootie.
The braces. I was SO thankful that I was finally able to get braces; I was a mouthful of crooked, but getting those was a cluster between my Mom, Dad and me living in a different state than my Dad and his insurance.
That outfit. I had very few clothes; I recall wearing this particular outfit many times during the school week.
I wish I knew at 13 that it would all work out for me. I’d get the life that I dreamt of having, but didn’t think it could be a reality; you know, a functional family life.
|A girl scout leader in the making
I wish I could go back and tell my 13-year-old self to NOT be so hard on myself, I will grow taller than 4’9 and weigh more than a toddler at some point., it’s ok to not be a cool kid or even friends with the cool kids.
And that I’ll have a slew of quality people in my life who will get me.
It was gonna be more than all right.