Wow. It appears that this is my third post in a row. What’s happened to everyone else? Damn. Ah well, I like the limelight, now and again. 

When I was younger, I was stupid enough to consider myself lucky because I never had ‘the talk’ with my mother. My sister was there to teach me the awkward life lessons of sex, and I picked up other things as I went along. But, oh, weren’t there things  I didn’t see coming? There were so many life lessons I now wish that my mum would have prepared me for.

You know about body image, heartache, depression and so on, but knowing is not enough to understand it – to feel it. As a teenager, we are living the worst and best years of our lives. We’re young, energetic creatures with a whole future ahead of us, but we live on intuition, melodrama and a hard education in the school of “life” – as our favourite dropouts commonly speak of. One minute, you’re laughing with your friends so hard that you cry, but then you’re crying yourself to sleep. How did that happen?

Well, I don’t want to live on a whim. I want to have known how cruel and sour people can be, that the good lose now and again, and that the most difficult person to love is yourself at times. I want to know how to cope when love slaps you in the face and when lust becomes a sordid hunt. And how about why people who were once a great asset in one’s life turn into alcoholics, bitches or lechers. For these, I would have given up a couple of hours to sit uncomfortably with my mother. Because, if I had known before, I could’ve tried harder to change it. 

The hard times make you who you are – fair enough. But that’s not always a good thing. When I reflect on the bus, or in the middle of the night, I’m always angry at myself. Why are you so paranoid? You need to  be then, then they’ll like you. You shouldn’t have let them talk to you like that, even though it’s true. You can be better, but you choose to fail. WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?

This is a harsh confession, I know. One of the hardest things anyone can do is stand up and say, ‘I hate myself.’ The other is to finally love yourself; I’m working on that one. I’ve been looking at this blog for a while, thinking about what I could make of it. Light hearted? Sarcastic? Witty? Critical? Caring? Educational? What I eventually came to decide was to take bits and bobs of all of these to form one aspect: honesty. 

If you don’t like me – then stop reading me. To avoid sounding like a Stalinist, I’m purging my life. You don’t want me around, then I most likely won’t want you either, at the end of the day. Sorry if this kicks some egos in the backside, but one thing my mother did tell me was not to bother with the people who hurt you. Sixteen yours, and I’m finally starting to learn this. Yes, hopefully this is the start of something… 

Aim For Next Week: Be nice to someone in an unexpected way. In this past week, I’ve dealt with so many bitches and assholes, but I know I could really do with it! So someone else must!