Neverland? No Thanks

I’ve been going through a lot of old stuff lately. Call it…spring cleaning for the chronic procrastinator. Digging through the

the notebook of truth.
the notebook of truth.

mess of cheesy CDs, swim team award ribbons, horse figurines, and passionate diary entries from middle school (guarded by lock and key), I couldn’t help ruminating on the awkwardness of growing up. I had to laugh.

A lot of the woes of my younger years can be summarized by listing my biggest childhood fears. So here they are. Promise not to laugh.

•that my voice would sound funny when I had to say “here” during roll-call.

•that a friend wouldn’t like her birthday present. it was terrifying to watch her open it. what if she didn’t like it? what if she already had that Barbie? what if someone made a joke about it?!? ugh, why are birthday presents even a thing?! I felt that way at every birthday party, without fail.

•that people would make fun of my lunch at school. I was the 11-year-old with Clif bars, Naked juice, and boxes of Thai noodles. though I sure didn’t want their food, I envied the normalcy of everyone else with their pizza-and-ranch combinations.

•that someone would say something that would make me blush. when I blushed, I blushed. ever seen a tomato? i’d then become aware of my blushing and blush some more.

•that whatever guy I “liked” would find out I liked him and that he wouldn’t like me back. or that he would. it was all absolutely terrifying.

•that my peers were getting cellphones while I didn’t have one. oh, the injustice! i’m twelve years old, mom. i have to keep up with the times.

•that, when I was older, I wouldn’t be able to wear Limited Too! they said it was clothing for girls 7-14! what about when I turned 15? 20? what would I wear?!?

•that someone would get ahold of my angst-y poetry and, like, post it on Bebo or something.

•that, because my parents wouldn’t let me date until i was 15, i’d never get asked out again by any boy. i’d go single to senior prom, or maybe not even go at all! (interesting logic)

•that my “worst enemy” might be wearing the same glittery sweater or pink sparkle jeans as me on any given day. Nawt kewl.

That’s enough of that. I think you get the picture. Plus, I’m blushing.

xo, j

feel free to comment with stories of your own special brand of awkward. goodness knows I’d love to hear it. 🙂

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2 thoughts on “Neverland? No Thanks

  1. This is perfect! I remember thinking I was silly when I didn’t bring a Capri Sun and Star Crunch with me every day in my lunch box. Or that my lunch box wasn’t actually a lunch box, but a plastic sack. How. Embarrassing. Good job drudging up all those old feels 🙂

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