I spent the past couple of nights deleting every scrap of my humanity off of my old laptop and iPad. During the process, as is expected, I took an undesired walk down memory lane. Today, I was in an even worse mood than usual, and that’s probably why.
After expressing my discontent to fellow LipLiner gal Bridget, she thoughtfully passed along this beautiful photo:
Yes, I know what you’re thinking: what a couple of babes. Literal babies, because the photo was taken at the tender age of 14 (I think). Our first homecoming dance. This may have been the one at which I paid for Bridget, when the woman who took my money asked if she was my date. Our town was more progressive than I’d thought. In any case, there we are, in all our awkward pubescent glory. At least Bridget looks happy.
Do teenagers even have photos like this anymore? Did Snapchat filters ruin the awkward phase for future generations?
What’s most comforting about this photo, aside from the fact that we are finally at the age when we can start laughing at ourselves, is that it’s a testament to how much we’ve improved in other areas of our lives. Maybe not at first glance (I still have a weird haircut and wear band t-shirts) but, emotionally, I’m fully aware of how much I’ve grown. The same, I’m sure, goes for Bridget.
Part of my old-photo-induced stress from last night had to do with photos from earlier this year. I was not looking my best, let me tell ya. I was in Central America, sweaty, dressed like a mom, had a mullet, and was a solid 30 pounds heavier than I am now. I like to think I’m on the upward slope. That photo, freshman year of high school and deep in my first downward slope, is a welcome reminder of how we change over the years.
I’m sure, 8 years from now, I’ll be laughing at how I looked instead of cringing. At least, I hope so.