(Actually, don't ask them.)
I used to put make up on to go to the gas station. The gas station. I used to eavesdrop on any strangers I was walking past to see if they were talking about me. (Surprise! They weren't.) I used to eat salads. Gross!
And after each exhausting day of clandestinely looking at myself in window reflections and trying to come up with the bombest intellectual comments in my literature classes, I'd lie in bed and retrace every action of that day, berating myself at every misstep or any below average demonstrations of what I wanted to portray as the sexy, smart, and fun version of Julia.
|Fruit snacks in milk again? |
Anyway. Aging and parenthood have forced a reshuffle of my priorities, and this new sequence of feelings is much more manageable than the previous one that lent all its weight to things like how uncool I might look trying to open a heavy door in front of other people. Don't get me wrong, inconsequential things like my dimpled thighs still bother me much more than they should, but they don't prevent me from leaving the house like they used to. And ya know what? Ward has dimply thighs too...and he weighs thirty pounds. So, even if I lost one hundred pounds right now (probably a traumatic thing to witness), things aren't looking too hopeful in the thigh department.
In conclusion, to all of you teens and early twenty-somethings, know this: things get easier. Yes, things might get more complicated in life, but they feel immensely less complicated (and that's what really matters right?). It just comes with age.
Oh! And Zoloft! That helps a lot, too. Totally forgot to mention that earlier!