Advice for My 12-Year-Old Self

When I look back at my childhood, there are lots of pleasant memories to pick from.  And for that I am lucky. You hear all these stories now in the media about children being bullied and harassed, both in person and on the internet.  It seems like growing up in today's world is a lot harder than it was when I was coming of age.  As I have a son-to-be growing in my belly currently, it makes me anxious to think of what the world will be like for him when he enters adolescence.  I am blessed to have had an overall happy and fulfilled childhood.  However, if I had to pick a difficult period of my young life, it would have been from around age 12 through the end of high school.  It's an awkward phase of growth and maturation, and girls at that age can be brutal.  I wouldn't go back and change anything, because my experiences have shaped me into the person I am today.  However, I do often reflect on the advice and tips I would give my 12-year-old self, if I ran into her on the street (presumably in a Back to the Future spinoff).

When other teenage girls make fun of the way you dress, don't be insulted.  I guarantee they won't go on in life to freelance for Vogue.
I have never really had too much of an issue with self-esteem or confidence.  That said, I'm not made of stone.  I still remember coming home crying (with a little PMS exacerbating everything) over comments other girls had made to me at school.  They said I folded my socks the wrong way, cut my hair too short, and had bushy eyebrows (that last point is not that inaccurate...mothers: let your girls tweeze!).  The fact that I wore a Catholic schoolgirl uniform from kindergarten to 12th grade minimized these comments, but didn't eliminate them.

I've never been a trendy person, and I value comfort and efficiency over style.  As I grew older, I learned not to be ashamed by this, but I wish I'd accepted my own fashion identity sooner.  Years later in college a roommate and I were shopping and I picked up a striped shirt I thought was cute.  She said, "Oh Laura, it's so nineties - so you."  And I smiled, because I knew that it was true, and I didn't care one bit.  Today I love my closet and my short hair, and fold my socks however I want to without a second thought.  You'll never be happy if you look in the mirror and see Hollister Barbie, because even if you look amazing, you won't be you (unless of course, you ARE Hollister Barbie, then please disregard).  True happiness is self-acceptance.  Come as you are and life will be much more fulfilling.  That, and never underestimate the joy that comes from a pair of oversized sweatpants.

Your older brother isn't a moron, and your younger sister isn't a dweeb.  
Okay, so maybe they are.  However, they also possess many redeeming qualities I never gave them credit for when I was 12.  I found my older brother N annoying and dismissive.  We clashed quite a bit until he left for college out-of-state.  Then slowly, a bond started to form.  I discovered he was a good listener, and also pretty smart I hated to admit.  By the time I entered college four years later, N was one of my best friends.  I called him on many late nights, to confess my embarrassment over kissing a boy when I'd had a little bit too much to drink, to cry when I'd been hurt and betrayed by a close friend, or just to tell him about something funny that had happened in the quad.  I'm happy to say that although we live on opposite coasts, we still share a strong relationship, though I don't call him as late anymore because he is an old man with two little daughters and resides several time zones away.  It takes time to find common ground with a sibling of the opposite sex, but once you do they become very valuable allies.

At 12, I found my younger sister A bizarre and didn't think I could relate to her in any way.  Her introverted personality and obsession with topics like Egyptian hieroglyphics vexed me.  What I didn't recognize then was her passion for life and her independent spirit.  Today A's obsession has moved on to the country of Canada.  After talking for years about how much she loves it there, she is making her dreams a reality.  Currently she's working at a Canadian consulate for the summer, and in the fall will be attending grad school near Winnipeg. It's a brave move, uprooting yourself and moving to a place where you have no history or links.  I respect and admire A's willingness to grab life by the horns.   Sibling relationships are often difficult, but it is important to remember that they are invaluable, and constantly evolving.

Your parents are neither gods nor devils.
When you're 12 they usually seem like a combination of the two.  Occasionally when they don't allow you to do whatever you want to do at that very second, it seems like they are using their god-like powers for evil.  I felt quite persecuted when my parents forbid me from getting my ears double pierced.  I ended up doing it anyway, but that's another story for another day. The rest of the time we as children usually accept that our parents know best how things should be, and follow their leads accordingly.  As I grew up, I discovered a few things.  Firstly, they are flawed human beings.  They sometimes act unfairly and do things the wrong way.  Shocking, I know.  Secondly, the "right way" that your parents teach you isn't really right or wrong, it's merely one option.

The challenge of transitioning into adulthood is morphing the lessons parents teach us with ones learned on our own, and using that combination to find our way in life and make independent decisions.  Thirdly and most importantly, there are no two people in the world who have your back more than your parents.  Mine have seen me through many rough trials, and even living thousands of miles away, I know they'd be here for me in a second if I called.  If you look up love and loyalty in the dictionary, you'll probably find pictures of your parents, if you're as lucky as I am.

Never change yourself for a boy.
Boys really weren't on my radar yet at age 12, and my younger self would have probably scoffed at the notion that I would ever conform for a relationship.  But eventually years later, it happened.  You get older, see your friends getting into relationships, and start wanting one of your own.  You get so caught up in the idea of having a boyfriend that you find yourself acting like a completely different person in order to be who (you think) the other person wants.  It's not something I am proud to admit.  I buried my country music CDs (I'm so sorry, Shania), quit the high school choir senior year (because it wasn't cool), and did a host of other things my subconscious wasn't at ease with.  In the end, it didn't make anyone happy, and I wasted a lot of time on someone who was never right for me to begin with.  True love doesn't come around too often, but it is totally worth waiting for.  Decide what you want (and deserve) early on and don't settle for anything less.  Don't change, don't negotiate, and don't conform.  Make sure the person you end up with isn't just someone you can love, but someone you can call your best friend as well.  When I met T, I knew he was the one.

A big reason why was I felt I could be myself around him - the good, the bad, and the ugly.  I sang along with "Man, I Feel Like a Woman!" in the car on our first road trip together.  I told T secrets I'd never told anyone else.  I let him in fully, and he did the same for me. And in return, I have a blissful marriage with a better partner than I ever thought I deserved.


The world is a very big place.
A sixth grade classroom at a Catholic grade school with only thirty kids in it is the very definition of insular.  At the time it seemed like my life operated in a very small universe, in which I was labeled by the powers that be early on as a "nerd," and a "goody-two-shoes."  In retrospect, neither of those terms were completely inaccurate, but at the time they seemed a lot more offensive to my sensibilities than they do now.  High school and college both provided me slightly broader social circles in which to move and develop.  However, I was still resigned to my assumed future of above average academic performance, followed by a high-powered career, and eventually a marriage and kids, all occurring in a fifty mile radius of the Twin Cities metropolitan area.  As it often does though, life surprised me.  I met my husband, and the adventure began.  Three years ago, I took the large leap of moving away from St. Paul, my home of 24 years and everything and everyone I'd ever known.  Since then, I have lived in Ohio and California, driven through most of the rest of the country, made friends from every region (many with humorous accents), and am currently living in a giant sandbox.  I'm a housewife who cans and composts instead of a career woman.  I never had pets growing up (and never wanted them either), yet now often have a 60lb lab named Buster in my bed at night.  

Life will offer you many opportunities to reinvent yourself, and discover the broader world around you. Embrace the chaos and enjoy the ride.