The second I turned 20, I quickly became one of those people that seemed to forget that they had been a teenager. Yeah, those that carry themselves as if they had never gone crazy over a crush, or felt the burning need to scream “My life is over!” after any minor inconvenience. Mind you, I still do that as a twenty-something year old but that is my business. Anyway, I centered myself on growing from those experiences as an adolescent and left little time to process; focusing instead on just pushing through every hardship life brought. In hindsight, I realized that it was an attempt to mask my painーout of sight, out of mind. As a child, I had at one point incessantly dreamed of being a teenager. Maybe Disney Channel and coming-of-age films ruined my perspective and expectations about what the teenage experience was really going to be like, placing a completely unattainable fantasy in my heart that I had no way of making real. It was as if I had a checklist of moments that had to happen and scolded or resented myself when things didn’t go according to said plan. It’s taken me a while to come to this point, but I think I owe you an apology, Teenage Me.
Let me start this “celebrity notes app” apology by saying that I don’t think that you were crazy. I know I’ve dragged you around like a Swiffer, but you were so difficult at times. I get it now, you were mourning your childhood just as I am mourning you. You missed the peace of being a child, so unaware of others and how they could possibly perceive you. You missed playing games that involved colorful blocks and running, and hated being stuck in the type of games that only messed with your feelings. Then, you eventually came to the realization that your neighborhood friends didn’t have time to be outside and you were left to catch up with the people that were actually psyched to grow up. You were absolutely crushed and I wasn’t there for you.
I remember that you started to wear makeup so fast, it made you feel betterーbut it was only because people stopped criticizing you. It was rewarding to receive compliments on the shades of eyeshadow that you picked. I still struggle to understand if you truly loved waking up earlier to do your makeup and if you liked feeling uncomfortable the second you wiped it off (with soap and water, you savage!) You needed the extra sleep, but the stress of wanting to look pretty was too heavy on your mind. Your family members always complained about this and it sucks to feel that they were right. I’m sorry for making you feel like your face was weird, as if you needed to cover it up. No teenage girl should have to feel that pressure. You were cute, for a racoon.
Some of the friendships that I subjected you to were downright cruel. I made you feel like you needed the approval of the same people that nourished so many of your insecurities. I know that you were desperate to have friends, that it was lonely to go home and watch Grey’s Anatomy before doing your homework without a single text from anybody. But you deserved better. If I had a do-over, I would’ve rather let you finish Desperate Housewives from start to finish multiple times than have you get your soul crushed, which is what happened on several occasions. You had few friends as a child, yet you wanted so many more as a teen. You loved so beautifully and I bullied you for it. I wish I could tell you to not worry about losing your best friend. After all this time, he still finds you endearing (as he always did). I wish I could tell you the exact date of the last time that you would speak to people that you thought were going to be in your life forever, just to save you the tears. Didn’t mean to quote The Weeknd there, but I’m truly sorry.
I should have complimented you more, reminded you of how special you were, are and will always be. I remember how ugly you felt at prom, and it wasn’t because of how you looked, but because you were you and that made you upset. You reduced the excitement simply because it took some time to get the zipper of your dress up, because no one asked you, because I made you feel like a failure. It was your final opportunity to live out your Disney Channel Original Movie moment and I made you aware that you had blown it. You looked so pretty and I know you would have hated it if any other girl had felt the same way on such a special occasion, so why did I not extend that treatment towards you? I remember you danced the night away, but there was an emptiness lingering, like you were unsatisfied with your performance as an adolescent. I’m sorry for making you think that there was some sort of manual that you needed to follow. You did the best you could and I know amidst all of this, you did have fun and you were loved by a lot of good people.
It’s only recently that I came to the realization that I had been so harsh because you and I are the same, yet so different. You struggled to feel comfortable in your own skin and I struggle to think that I’ve grown to be someone that you would admire. But not everything has to be so bleak. Through missing you and mourning your time in my life, I feel closer to healing; closer to returning to myself after attempting to reboot my own life the second I stopped being nineteen. You were special and your role in my neverending coming of age film didn’t need to be cut or edited at all.
You weren’t an embarrassment; you were a girl dealing with a world that picked you apart and the fact that you guided me into young adulthood is something that I am immensely grateful for. I don’t mean to give you spoilers, but almost all of your problems ultimately gave way to beautiful new beginnings. I guess I’m sorry that I can’t go back and tell you that, and save your thoughts from being so dark. I’m happy to know that you could never truly leave me and that I represent the progression of your journey. Somewhere deep inside, there’s still a sleep deprived teenager questioning if she should do lilac eyeshadow for school, and that puts a smile on my face.