Friday, 7 November 2014

An Open Letter To My Younger Self
HEY you sitting there with five minutes to spare.  Have a look at this.  That advice you currently give to others about taking what is relevant to you and leaving all the rest does not apply here.  All of this applies to you.  All of it.  Except maybe two things.  But those two things will provide you with much merriment for longer than they should.

Read on!

Nothing ever happens.  Nothing happens at all.  The needle returns to the start of the song and we all go along like before.

Too much wine will get you madly drunk.  And madly hungover.  And say mad stuff you wouldn’t normally.  Don’t panic too much about that part.  If you’re drunk enough you’re most likely incoherent and they’ll put it all down to you talking shite.

Spending hours purchasing, prepping, roasting and pureeing veg does not mean your child will eat it.

What’s that?  Yes, there will be a child.  Or four.  Accept it. 

That lipstick, eye shadow, latest hairdo will not look the same on you.  At all.  Instead you will resemble a feral child who got at her mother’s make-up and then found the scissors.

Wine does not make you a good singer.  Or dancer. 

You cannot please everyone.  But you will feel guilty as hell over it.

Someone somewhere at any given time will be jealous of you and make you feel like shite because of it.  You won’t realise this until later in life when the penny finally drops as someone points out what has been obvious to them all along but not to you.  It will hurt.  But you will get over it.

Some events traumatic, dramatic and otherwise will cause your heart to break in different ways. You will absolutely believe this is the end and you are about to die but of course you don’t.  You know this deep down.  What you don’t realise is you will become better, stronger possibly even happier as a result. 

Life will overwhelm you at times.  As will your family, your child and your career.

When the shit hits the fan, you’ll want your mother.

Everyone else will be raving about that movie, book or TV programme but you utterly hate and detest them.

Weight creeps on as you get older and it will be increasingly hard to shift.  Some days “ah fuck it” is said and lots of chocolate inhaled to make yourself feel better.

A royal faux pas will happen either very publicly or just at the school gate.  But guess what?  They’ll all be talking about something/someone else next week.

You will fall in public once, maybe twice.  When you are 100% sober.  There is no ice.  And everyone is watching.

It looks like it is 5.30pm but in actual fact it is only 4.30pm.  Unaware of your poor time keeping you grab your coat and leave the office only to meet the cantankerous and belligerent elderly MD on the way out, demanding to know where you think you’re going.

You will get drunk after work one fine evening and spend the 20 minute bus ride home telling the driver how to drive and when every single stop is coming up.

There might be an argument with the staff behind the Abrakebabra counter regarding the lack of value for money with the jellybean machine; 6 for a 50c trouble.  The beans might be handed back in disgust.  Yes, there will have been alcohol taken.  

The chances of you disliking someone intensely for no good reason are high.  They just irritate and piss you off.  Intensely.  And for no good reason.

The practise of CIO (Crying It Out) won’t be for you but there might be a few times when you just let them cry because to pick them up means you could end up in tears yourself.  You won’t be proud of it, but you haul another stubborn, hissing child into the bathroom by the arm non- too gently.

You will know better than everyone else on occasion.  And not be afraid to show it.

Perhaps there will be one time in your life when you take a bottle of wine and some plastic cups into the cinema. 

You will love and hate absolutely everything about your kids.

Everyone will talking about something or other and you nod along despite not having the foggiest idea what it is.  Because you don’t want them to think you’re completely thick.  Yes, you have reached adulthood.

It will be normal to have a sudden urge to burst into snotty panicked tears when you hear “maammeeee” for the millionth time.

Wondering where time has gone will take up an inordinate amount of your time.  Along with when will I get my life back?  Without realising this is your life.

Calling your primary school teacher by their first name when you meet them in public thirty years later with kids of your own just won’t happen.  They were and always will be Mrs. Quinn, Miss. Foley or Sir.

When you open your mouth and your mother comes out, you will feel horror be thrilled, amused and slightly unsettled all at the same time.

Miscellaneous:  that three legged race at Sports Day back in the 80’s?  The one you thought you had in the bag?  Try to forget about your so called best friend deciding that the knotted pair of tights are too loose and insisting they be tied tighter.  You lose the race and she wins.  Shit happens.  Lots of shitty shit happens.  You may as well get used to it from the get go.   Treat this particular episode as a valuable lesson learned.

Enjoy the rest of your wonderful life and when you get knocked down, coz you will, get the fuck back up again and carry on!



  1. I beg to differ: I'm an amazing dancer when shitfaced. Probably.

    1. LOL! I am too! That thing about jealousy?? It's coz of my dancing!

  2. Great post. God I don't want to read a letter to my younger self! Although there would also be lots of wine.

    1. It's very cathartic Lucy. Drink wine as you do it!!

  3. Fab post; I'm not entirely sure what I'd say to mine, wine and tequila may feature strongly though.

    1. One must start off on the correct foot after all. I reckon most letters to younger selves would have booze in there.

  4. I've been avoiding this post as I've been avoiding my younger self. I suppose I should go look her in the eye.