Dear Fourteen Year Old Me

For the third year in a row, I’ve decided to try my hand at NaBloPoMo. It just wouldn’t feel like November without the added pressure to come up with something to write every day for thirty days. Today’s post was inspired by a prompt I found on The Daily Post. Expect a sequel in the near future.

Dear Fourteen-Year-Old Kristine,

Jeepers, your life sucks right now. No, really. You have every right to feel bitchy. You couldn’t pay me to take your place right now and you have a lot more money than I do. Ninth grade is pretty much as bad as it gets. Even the dark period you’ll go through in your mid-twenties won’t compare to the crappiness that is the final year of junior high. Wallow all you want. Slam that door if it helps you feel better. It probably won’t but do it anyway.

I am not going to ask anything of you because you have enough on your mind as it is. School, friends, that jackass in science class who likes to make you hate yourself even more. I am also not going to tell you that it gets better because I think you know that already. All you want is to finish out the year and get the heck out of there. Don’t worry, you will. But it’s going to be brutal for a little while longer.

I’m sorry.

Luckily, I don’t have many regrets about the year 1996. Maybe you listen to a little too much Celine Dion, maybe you read too many vampire novels, but ultimately you don’t do anything to warrant a lot of cringing. Even your hair is okay. Actually, it’s not that different than it is now, at thirty.

Maybe that isn’t what you want to hear. Yeah, you dress like a thirty-year-old. You probably guessed as much.

There is a lot of advice I could offer but I know you hate that, even when it comes from yourself. You know those jerks aren’t worth anything and they bother you anyway. You know you are going to pass that math class and yet you freak out about it anyway. You spend too much time in your room and not enough time having fun. You know this but you don’t know how to change it. It’s okay. I just wish you knew you didn’t have to be so bored all the time.

I guess I lied when I said I have no regrets about being fourteen. There is one.

I bet you haven’t looked at the above picture in a long time, if ever. That is your dog, Nikita, as a puppy, and you, as a little kid. Back then you used to spend a lot more time with her than you do now.

I know, I know, I know. You’re busy. Walking her is a chore. You have a life. The thing is, you really like dogs. More than you might realize right now. One day you are going to remember this and wish you’d paid more attention sooner. Perhaps if you had, you would have sought out a different career path back when you still had the ambition.

Nikita is, what, eight years old right now? She has many more years to live but not as many as you would like. Instead of pouting, why don’t you take her to the park? You never know, it might make you feel better. If you like you can pout and walk at the same time. But trust me, you won’t regret it. In fact, you might even want to do it again tomorrow.

C’mon. Just once. For me?

Big hugs,

Your forever friend

26 thoughts on “Dear Fourteen Year Old Me

  1. Fourteen year old you sounds a lot like thirteen year old me. Except I didn’t dress like a 30 year old. I dressed either like a homeless person who found their way into the bin of Frenchie’s rejects, or like I was going to a discotheque.

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    • Nice! I am sure I had my share of homeless person clothes. It was the nineties, after all. I remember a lot of baggy flannel.

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      • Yup, tons of baggy flannel. Which you had to either not tuck in your pants, or have it partially untucked (on one side), like you tucked it but now it’s come out and you’re too cool to fix it. Also, baggy jeans. I’m sure I looked like a sack of flower with the top tied into a small knot.

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    • I certainly didn’t meant to make anyone cry! I mostly just wish I had discovered my passion for animals back in my youth when I was figuring out what I wanted to do with my life. Instead of in my late twenties. πŸ˜› Better late than never?

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  2. This is a beautiful letter Kristine, it brought tears to my eyes too. I’ve said it before, I wish I had a do over button and I wish hindsight wasn’t 20-20.

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    • For sure. My regrets are mostly selfish. I just think if I had known how passionate I would be about dogs I would have made some better career/educational choices. Ah well.

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  3. Don’t feel too bad, my letter would be pretty much the same. The only exception would be I wish I would have listen to my body sooner and not believed the quack I was seeing. I look at my current (& first) dog laying on his bed and wish I had done more when he was young. He had the ability to do so much and I did nothing with it. I think everything you’ve done with Shiva more than makes up for what you think you didn’t do πŸ™‚

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    • You can’t regret that. Your dog has had a great life and continues to do so. Comparing yourself to others is always a dangerous idea. You have done and do what you can the best you can. It’s no fair holding yourself accountable to things you just didn’t know.

      I just wish I had known I loved dogs so much back then. Maybe I would have paid more attention in science class!

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  4. I wish people would stop telling kids that this is the best time of their lives. It isn’t. And a lot of kids wonder why it isn’t happening for them.

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    • Cosigned a million times over. The only people who think being a kid is so great are people who don’t remember what it was like. My parents used to tell me all the time how lucky I was and how I should be out enjoying my freedom. What freedom do kids have, exactly? Sure, I had fewer responsibilities but I could make almost no choices on my own. It’s not that I had a bad childhood as far as those things go. It was fine. “Normal.” But being an adult is much better. I’ll take bills and bosses over bedtimes and bullies any day.

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    • For me, 14 was one of the best times in my life, the college years being wonderful as well! At 14 I had pets, but didn’t pay the food or vet bills. I also had horses and all summer to ride to my heart’s content. It all changes when you graduate from college and suddenly all the bills are yours to pay, all your time is spent working, no summers to play and the lifestyle takes a dive. It took me many years of working to get the balance back!

      Kristine…at <i<just thirty , you have plenty of years to take that passion for dogs and turn it into a career.

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  5. (((Kristine))) What a wonderful young lady you are. If we’d met as kids, I reckon we would have been the best of pals and taken on the world together:)

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  6. Oh baby. You made me tear up. Did 14 year old you ever take that walk with Nikita?

    But rest assured, you can NEVER read too many vampire novels though 1 Celine Dion song is probably 1 too many πŸ™‚ Big hug X

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    • Only when she was forced to by her parents. *sigh* Nikita had a good life. She wasn’t my responsibility. But if I had known how much dogs would come to mean to me, maybe I would have taken more biology classes and less political science.

      Hahahaha! I couldn’t agree more about the Celine Dion. It was hard to come clean. I’ve forsworn both at this point.

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  7. You couldn’t pay me to go back in time. Poor freshman. My youngest is a freshman and I’m doing my best not to kill him. Thank you for reminding me how much it sucks from their perspective. Still want to kill him, but not as much.
    Pop over and vote to win a treat?

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  8. Aww, I think we can all relate to your letter a bit. I was a very awkward, quiet kid, but I was lucky to have a lot of close friends. The dogs I had back then were very loved, but they, too, could’ve used more walks and training!

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  9. Amazing post Kristine. It’s so easy to look back and see how we could have done things differently, isn’t it? But all of those experiences have made us who we are today πŸ™‚ Just remember . . you are exactly where you are supposed to be!!!

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  10. Ack, if only 14 year old me was less concerned with dong something “cool” with my life and more interested in doing something actually cool. I hear you there, for sure! Oh well, figure all that crap the fourteen year old me, and 18 year old me and 21 year old me and 25 year old me did was probably necessary to make me the 28 year old me that loves to blog and worships my dogs and is generally, a whole lot happier than all the mes I used to be.

    PS – I’m so impressed that you’re taking on such a huge project this time of year. I tend to lose my mind between now and the new year…

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  11. Pingback: Dear Fifty Year Old Me | Rescued InsanityRescued Insanity

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