This week has been weird for me. Last Saturday I went to my birthday party, which was ’90’s themed. Basically I wore what I did every day in high school. That gave me sort of a weird feeling by itself.
To continue the feeling of weirdness I delved into my diary from high school. It. Was. Excruciating. Seriously, so awful. Not only am I astounded at my sentence structure, grammar and the fact that I actually called boys “fine,” but I see my parents were right; I was a total dumb-ass in high school.
One could make the argument that most of us were dumb-asses in high school. That is probably true, however, it’s difficult to see others douchery when yours is being shoved in your face. I know, I know, I did it to myself. It was my fault for reading it to begin with, but I had a good reason.
The thing I hate most about my diary is the fact that in each entry I talk about a crush I have on a new boy. I might stay consistent with one boy for awhile, but inevitably a new one crops up. I’m not sure why this bothers me so much. Maybe it’s because I pride myself on being such a loyal and loving person. I never made such claims in high school but I do now. My attitude towards the opposite sex now is so different from what it was in high school.
I’m so glad that with time we (usually) grow out of stupid phases like that. It’s a relief to realize that I have changed a lot since then and I know that I can never go back to being that selfish again. The reasons I give for breaking up with boys, or developing a new crush are ridiculous and make no sense. I’m glad that when I look back I don’t think about how much I can still relate. I look back and wonder, what the hell was I thinking?! Which actually makes me feel pretty good about the woman I’ve become.