Dear ten-year old version of Sparklebumps,
I wanted to wrote this letter to you because I figured it might be easier to get through some of the shit that’s coming if you have some kind of idea…
I want to let you know that even though you are a complete chub right now, when you’re about 15, you’re going to be anorexic for awhile. Your goal weight is going to be 88 lbs. but the lowest you’re going to get is 95 lbs. Don’t worry, you don’t get sent to a hospital or anything, even though Mom threatens you with that a few times just to try to get you to eat. When those two girls laugh at you because you’re 130 lbs. right now, just brush it off. (I know you won’t though.) So you know, you pretty much only eat candy for all of 1996. You’ll stay pretty skinny until you’re 23 or so, and then you’ll realize that there comes a moment of complete joy from eating an entire large pizza by yourself. You don’t turn into a complete fat-ass, but you’ll end up with a little bit of extra baggage. The boys don’t seem to mind…
That reminds me. You’re done growing up. You might be the tallest person in your class right now, but get used to this height, because we don’t get any taller. 5’3″ is it, baby! It sometimes makes it hard to reach things on top shelves, but there are step stools and tall men to help you with that, and you’ll get pretty used to wearing tall heels.
You’ll get rid of the big plastic glasses too. Mom and Dad will let you get contacts in a couple of years, but for now, you’re just going to have to look like a dork. Don’t worry, there aren’t too many pictures of you at age 10.
I know your looks really bother you right now, and I’m sorry to say that your worries about your looks don’t go away. Mirrors are still our enemy, even when we’re 30. But I am happy to report that you don’t stay an ugly duckling. You don’t exactly turn into a swan- maybe something more like a Canadian goose.
I’m not really sure why you’re so into dressing like a boy, because as you get older, the complete opposite is true. Relish the boy sneakers and baggy t-shirts while you can, because pretty soon, you never wear anything that doesn’t have a heel.
Keep playing piano, even though it’s a pain in the ass now. It ends up being a weird talent that comes in handy, and a good conversation starter for when you finally meet our Rockstar.
You will not automatically go to hell if you give away your virginity, despite how much time Dad tries to convince you otherwise. I just wanted to clear that up right now. I also wanted to say that you will not be ruined when you DO give it up, and someone will still want you. Dad kinda freaks out on you a little bit (that’s an understatement) when he finds out you’re not a virgin anymore- I believe his exact wording is, “You’re completely ruined now and no man is EVER going to want you now!” I give you props if you tell him to go fuck himself when he says that.
About Dad- things don’t really get better with him. He just gets older and more crotchety. But at least he moves to New Mexico, so you don’t have to see him much.
I will tell you- boys aren’t everything, but they certainly make life more interesting. And you eventually develop histrionic personality disorder, so you love the attention you get from them. I gotta tell you, though, around 28 and 29, life gets pretty hairy for a bit from all the guys that are hanging around and trying to convince you to do them. I’m not really sure what that’s all about. Just go with the flow…
That reminds me- you’ll have at least one failed marriage. But it’s not all bad. He just forgets for awhile how much he loves you, and he doesn’t remember until it’s too late. You stay friends though, and he will still send you texts saying how much fun you were. Oh, and your pink wedding dress is AWESOME.
I suppose I should mention, too- that boy you like right now- you don’t end up with him. You really did fall in love at first sight with him, and when you’re 16 it gets really tough for awhile because you guys end up as great friends and you try to set him up with one of your girls. For the record- he doesn’t end up with her either. He DOES keep all the notes and letters you send him, though, at least for awhile. He ends up with a blonde and has a beautiful family with two adorable boys who look exactly like him. Damn that blonde!
I must warn you- you never get over your book obssession. It gets pretty bad.
I’m not sure if we’ll make it out of Minnesota, because I’m still working on that, but you end up not minding it so much after you meet our Rockstar.
About him- he just needs some lovin’. So don’t get too upset when he calls you a stupid cunt that one time in the beginning, because he’s just jaded at that point. All you have to do is state that if he says that once more, you will punch him in the nose and he will never see you again. Trust me. He doesn’t say it again. He ends up being a really good guy, and the sex is AMAZING, but you don’t have to know about that yet.
You are meant to be a writer. Don’t ever forget that. Even if you have to be a waitress and a job coach and a book bitch and a JC Penney associate and a pizza slut first.
I think that’s about all you need to know now, but just remember- Love is the thing; you won’t ever regret giving someone a hug; God likes to fuck with you, but He’s still a Cool Dude; the more you sing badly, the better you get; and stay away from lactose products. XOXO
Love,
An older but not necessarily- wiser You.
P.S. Yes, the boobs get bigger. Alarmingly so.
I feel like we would have been best friends as 10 year olds….I threatened to punch the bully girl in the nose when she wouldn’t give me back my purple sparkly pencil…
Damn that bully girl!
My 10 year old self would just say “what do you want, dude?”
Was your 10 year old self as fucked up as your self is now? 😉
No way – it takes decades to get this fucked up.
That was awesome! Keep going in that direction.
WONDERFUL! We all should do this! I might have to add “Meet Sparklebumps” to my Bucket List! You ROCK!
Oh yes, you must! We shall go out for scones… or french fries.
You’re hilarious! I love your writing.
Aww thanks, my Lovely!
It’s better to be warned, right?
I think so. I hate surprises.
Unless they consist of the perfect shoes in the right size for free…