Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?
As I pulled up to my kids’ highschool today, I got a wave of nostalgia from my highschool days. You see, my sons attend the same school I did. I was watching the students stream out of the building and noticed that they didn’t look that different from my generation. Sure, the hair and clothes were somewhat different, but the groups seemed the same. There were jocks, the band, the nerds (of which I was clearly one), along with a handful of other groups of teens. It brought back memories of being a teenager, which was actually a pretty good time in my life. Sure, I had trauma occur, but I got through it.
I was a skinny girl, flat as a board on both sides. I had my hair permed to the nth degree. I’m surprised it didn’t fall out from the perms, highlights, and gobs of hairspray in it. I wore brightly colored clothes and tight jeans with my blue plaid Keds. When I see my old photos, I think “What?”
I thought boys were mysterious creatures. I was awkward and shy around most, especially the ones that were the cutest. I liked them all. Funny thing is, I’m still shy around them. Some things never change.
At 16, I knew I was going to be a nurse, just like my mom. My plan was to go to Clemson, meet my future husband, who would be a doctor just like my dad. We would have four kids by the time I was 26. We’d buy a really big house. Then we’d live happily ever after.
Life didn’t quite turn out the way I planned when I was 16, but I am content. I have two boys instead of four, and we live peacefully in a townhouse a few miles from where I grew up. I’m still friends with many of my highschool friends. At 50, I think I’m wiser and less angst ridden than at 16. But sometimes, I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d kissed the boy with the blonde hair.
this is not what I ordered: check please! 