Dear High School Freshman Alex,

*Takes a deep breath*

Um, OK.

Well, you probably already know that I’m going to inform you of your hair/makeup/clothing sins. Luckily, you’ve ditched the corduroy bellbottoms, which is a huge step in the right direction, but your attempts to jump on the trendy bandwagon are more than a little cringe worthy. Like, remember when you bought your first pair of black leggings because all the girls in your grade wore them as pants but you didn’t know about the Official Rules for Wearing Leggings and didn’t check to make sure that a). they weren’t too see-through and b). wear appropriate undergarments? And then when you saw yourself in your bedroom mirror after wearing them all day you realized you could see your red moose-printed underwear when you bent down? Yeah, I still remember that and it was a while ago. But I do applaud you for branching out and trying to find your style—just know that even though wearing dad’s old Cheap Trick concert t-shirt to school might seem like a good idea, you’ll eventually have to put on a sweatshirt (that doesn’t match because you seem to only buy brightly colored ones for some reason) and it will spoil the whole ‘alt-rocker’ effect.

Now, about your face.

Dude, enjoy your beautiful skin while you still have it, because around the end of senior year, it’s going to break out in ways you’ve never even imagined, for no apparent reason. And thank you for remembering to moisturize every day, it really has helped a lot. But for the love of God, stop only putting concealer in a tiny half-moon shape under your eyes and nowhere else. That shade is way too light for your skin tone and it makes it incredibly obvious that you only put makeup under your eyes. And I hate to break it to you, but that purple eyeliner that you love so much actually makes you look like you have perpetually irritated eyes because it looks pink when you smudge it. But if you only listen to one solid piece of advice, STOP TRYING TO FIX YOUR EYEBROWS. SERIOUSLY. Because at this point, there is no ‘fixing them.’ Oh, no. You put down the tweezers and let those guys grow all the way back. And then—and only then—may you resume plucking. You’re just making my life—your future life—harder.

I have now reached the portion of this letter where I will give you extreme praise, especially because looking back, I don’t know how you have the guts to do it (because face it, you’re kind of a weenie right now). You decided that you needed to completely emulate Emma Watson and you CHOP OFF YOUR HAIR. LIKE, ALL OF IT. INTO A PIXIE CUT. And guess what? You look amazing. Which is why, years later, I still have short hair. The fact that you went in for a routine trim and, on a spur of the moment decision, said “You know what? Just chop it all off,” is fantastic and I’m proud to say we did that. However, I would love it if you came up with some excellent clap-backs to the people who said weird/offensive things about your haircut, like when that boy asked if you meant to have your hair that short or if your hairdresser just kept cutting. Just an idea.

Now, into the nitty-gritty.

This year is the year where you realize you can’t be good at every subject. Geometry is going to kick your butt and you’re going to watch other kids cruise through it without any effort on their part. This will make you furious. But here’s the thing: you are not stupid. The fact that math doesn’t come easily to you does not mean you aren’t intelligent. The important thing is that you try, because that’s really all you can do. I hate to break it to you, but we never get better at math. You’ll spend hours in help rooms and cry over multiple worksheets, but it never gets easier. And it’ll be hard to accept this, because in your mind a truly intelligent person can be good at any subject matter as long as they work hard enough. You’ll struggle to come to terms with this, but eventually you will realize your self-worth does not stem from your ability—or inability—to perform basic math. This will become more apparent next school year when you take your first high school art class *insert a thank-you to Mrs. Ziegel, your future art teacher*

I know this year started out kind of rough for you in the friend department, which is a bummer. Middle school to high school is a hard transition and I know you were lonely a lot of the time that first half of the year. Now, I don’t mean to sound preachy, but you know that girl Anna who your mom keeps suggesting you invite over and you don’t listen to her? Yeah, she’s going to be one of your favorite humans of all time—yet another thing your mom will be right about. And you know that girl Bethany who sits at your table at lunch? Neither of you will know how exactly it happened, but eventually you’ll realize that you’re friends and it will be both confusing and hilarious. (To this day neither of us know when we started hanging out.) Just remember that it’s OK to feel like you’re kind of floating off by yourself in terms of the social scene—just don’t close yourself off from potential friendships because you feel awkward.

I know this is a weird time for you and you’re just trying to find your footing, but you’re doing just fine. You’re not nearly as whiny as you were in middle school and you’re starting to define your own sense of self based off what feels right to you and I think that’s impressive. Just keep moving forward and don’t psych yourself out too much about how weird you are—it’s one of your best features.

And now, some parting advice:

-Stop wearing things with so much lettering—you won’t like it in about a year but you’ll have to keep wearing it because you don’t want to be picky.

-Take gym first semester or you’ll end up in a class with only upperclassmen and athletes who just needed to fill spots in their schedules and it will be terrifying and awful.

-Seriously—stop plucking your eyebrows. I mean it.

Love,

Future Alex