Sunday, April 3, 2016

Letter to my eighteen-year-old self

Dear Oana,

I sure wish you could have read this when you were 18.
I sure wish you could have seen the simple things lying in front of you.
Let's start of from the beginning.
You were the 4th in your whole school on graduation day. The freakin' 4th. Own that shit. It really doesn't matter how incredibly incompatible, incapable and ungrateful your friends are. You deserve more. A whole lot more than that bunch of spoiled poor little rich kids that are going to be very nasty to you in a little while. You got into university on a scholarship and they didn't. And so they became a very small and insignificant angry mob. And you know when you decided to leave them behind and move on. Good for you. That was a smart decision. Don't worry. In university you'll discover amazing people who are worth talking to, crying with and laughing at. You'll meet Bianca and Ada and Pisi and Dan and all those people that are fun, and smart and real.
Turn around you. Somewhere there is this massive, good-looking, perfect hair, big full lips rugby player. He's your boyfriend and you're in love. I know. Dump him. Right now. He's fun and wonderful but also the biggest baby on the planet and he is waaaaay not at your level.
Yes, I know you know that. I know you're trying really bad to make him up to be more than he is. The shirts won't change him. No, the vacations won't change him. No, university won't stick. He's not the ONE. He's one of the many that will be part of your life. So dump him now before his ass gets cocky and he cheats on you with a faceless nobody who can't even face you after you'll dump him some years later.
Coming back to the fact you're 18, please find and kiss, screw, cheat on and fool around with all the men and women you want. This is the time to truly do whatever you want. Trust me.
Cut gluten, it's toxic stuff for you and you'll realise that pretty soon. Start doing yoga now, not in a year's time. Don't quit. Stop smoking those on and off cigarettes. Do not stop drinking. You can do that later. Yeah, start cooking for your friends because you're really good at it and people appreciate it.
Oh hell yeah, kick that girl you think is your best friend's ass out of your house. She's not. And you'll end up on the streets, literally, because of her. And ignore the four-eyed monster that thinks they are superstars. You're right, they aren't and they won't be. It will get a whole lot worse and a whole lot more embarrassing in the future but that's another letter.
Remember your deep rooted hatred for Facebook? That won't change. But please create a Twitter account and watch out for Instagram. It's going to rock!

I'm pretty sure there are a few more things I wished you had known when you were 18, but these would have done. But then again, would you, would we be where we are now if it hadn't been for all these messes turning us, me into what I am today?

I guess we'll never know.

Kiss and Peace
Miss Sinister