Dear Teen Me: Authors Write Letters to Their Teen Selves (True Stories) (42 page)

But there’s something else
you
need to understand : Your mom, she loves you. Your grandma and grandpa do, too. Your three little brothers all look up to you and love you. In fact—and you’ll find this hard to believe—your dad, he loves you too. He just doesn’t know how to show it, because he didn’t have a very good dad himself.

Being a man is not about how many pairs of jeans you can steal. It’s not about whether or not you can blow smoke rings. And it’s not about making babies either. (Any dog, cat, or snake can do that.)

Prove greatness through what you are truly good at: creating art. Not machismo. Take advantage of what’s already within you: raw, freaking, God-given talent. That’s how to be a big man.

Melissa Walker

Dear Teen Me,

You’re right about almost everything. I know it and you know it. But the truth is, you’re wrong about almost everything, too. Life is slippery that way, so let’s break down some of your core beliefs:

You’ll never get over your first love.

Why you’re right: He’s pretty awesome. He’s hot, he makes you laugh, and he understands what you’re thinking with just a glance. No one will ever know you in the same way that he does right now. There’s no getting over a first love. There’s only holding the memory of it close and making it a part of the fabric of the rest of your life.

Why you’re wrong: Breaking up with him will not mean leaving yourself damaged in an irreparable way. You don’t have to get over a first love, you just have to move on from him. And you don’t have to rupture all your ties to him in order to do that. After the breakup, with a little time, you can even be friends again. (And by the way, I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass: You’ll dance with him at your wedding, and he’ll wind up being a close friend of your husband’s.)

You’ll never have friends this close again.

Why you’re right: These people are hilarious and awesome and most of them have known you since you were five. It’s hard to compete with that. The good news is, friendship is not a competition.

Why you’re wrong: You’ll make amazing friends in college and in your twenties, and you’ll become even closer friends with them than you were with your high school friends, albeit in different ways. And they’ll make you laugh just as hard as you did before. They’ll all be additions, not replacements, so stop worrying about losing old friends.

You’ll never be as popular as Lisa Shipley.
^*

Why you’re right: In the context of the Chapel Hill High School hallways, she will always have more social cred.

Why you’re wrong: I mean, who cares? She posts professional photos of her cats all over this thing called Facebook. I’d be willing to bet you that even in high school, when you envied her boyfriends and her loud laugh and her seemingly golden life, she felt the same way you do: inadequate, insecure, and worried that someone would find the chink in her armor. Hint: EVERYONE FEELS THIS WAY.

You’ll move to New York City and become a writer.

This one, you’re just plain right about. It took a lot of work to get there, but you’re putting in the time because you love what you do. Nice job.

Now, in your thirties, you have a whole new set of things that you think you’re absolutely right about. But you realize that you’re probably wrong about a lot of them too. You’ve come to accept the idea that it’s okay to be unsure of the future. It might even be better that way.

^*
Name changed, because we’re Facebook friends