I never want to be a teenager again. Never ever ever. So that's one of the things that I guess I can be grateful about getting older for, unless reincarnation does in fact exist and I am just marching unknowingly to an an unlimited future of teen lives. I'm not sure if that's how reincarnation works, and I realize that the likelihood of my continually experiencing the same bored, privileged, suburban teenage life over and over again is very small... I'm just saying that now that I have lived to be 26, I feel confident that I will make it into old age, unless illness or other malicious forces (not my hand) intervene.
One of the major downers that I recall about being a teenager is the feeling that nobody liked me, except maybe my grandmother (and what was her problem) and a few friends. Accompanying this was loneliness and lack of self worth. I dealt with these feelings in different ways as life progressed: as a kid I read books constantly, when I was a little older it was hours of television, and when I was still a little older I discovered the joys of alcohol. Luckily I didn't become a real drinker until I turned 21, but I got into enough trouble with my parents as a teenager involving alcohol that the level at which I consumed it then was about as damaging to my life as it was when I lived away from home and was legally able to buy it.
When I was a kid I had a huge appetite and a fast metabolism. Puberty was a crushing blow. I gained 20 pounds in less than a year. However, I could not conceive of changing my diet and was accustomed to eating every meal until I felt physically sick or uncomfortable. I remember one day in high school someone brought in donuts for the class. Someone else brought in apples. The really pretty blond girls (who looked like they were 30 rather than 16), ate the apples while I miserably enjoyed the immediate gratification of my donut (I probably ate two).
At some point when I was a teenager, I got the idea that a good way to lose some weight would be continue eating all of the huge servings of food that I was accustomed to for every meal and not exercising, and to somehow force all of those excess calories out of my body. I'm sure had I been another type of person I would have tried starving myself, but that was not the type of quick fix solution I was into. I once wrapped packing tape around my belly as a type of a corset to sleep with, which goes to show you the level of planning and common sense I was employing in my quest. Not only was the packing tape (obviously) ineffective, it was pretty painful to take off.
So for some years I was bulimic. I have to say that it's pretty convenient that this nice medical term exists that veils the inherently disgusting nature of making yourself vomit and abusing laxatives. Add to this that being an incredibly insecure, unhappy person didn't make me super nice to others. My first few boyfriends experienced pretty insane levels of jealousy and anger from me. I once threw an entire smoothie into my ex boyfriend's car.
So, one of the best things that ever happened to me was transferring to college, moving into an apartment with people who became really good friends, and getting a job at a co-op. At school intelligence was really valued, which was not something I recognized much as a teenager. And at work all sorts of people were liked and accepted, and no one was rewarded for being a jerk. I made friends and stopped watching so much t.v. I stopped worrying as much about what I looked like. I gained weight, cut off my hair and was really, really happy. For a few years I did have crazy anxiety about my teeth, sure I was going to lose all of them after mistreating my mouth so much, but eventually I went to a dentist and as far as I know dentures are not in the cards-- yet.
Fast forward a few years later and I'm still ironing out some kinks. I take from those experiences some valuable lessons, and a plan for what I will try to impart to my daughter, if I ever have one. Life is good, I'm okay, and I'm ready for what's coming. Life can be hard enough without being on your own side. Teedle-y-dee, off to work I go!
