It All Works Out

I received a request* to write a post about advice I would give my 13-year-old self. I thought it would be easy, and I was very wrong. See, there are tons of things I could say to my 13-year-old self--tons of things I could "warn" my past self about in order to avoid the pain, the embarrassment, the work. But would I really want to do that? Isn't the point of experiencing difficult things to learn from them? So my "advice list" became more of a "reassurance list". We rarely take the advice someone gives us anyway. Most of the time we just want the reassurance to know that what we are doing is right. Once I shifted my focus to write my list in this way, a ridiculous amount of words flowed out. Some words are so intimate that I can't even write them here. It sounds weird, but I started to have a conversation with my 13-year-old self...really just letting her know it would all work out. The words "calm down" were used a lot. Anyone who knew me then knows that I was (am) a bit of a worrier. So here are the few bits that are fit for public eyes...

1. You will have more than one shot at love. Contrary to most movies, TV shows, and books, you don't end up with the first person you date. It's actually pretty rare to stumble upon someone who is "perfect" for you on the first run out of the gate. I'm not saying you should lower your expectations, and I'm definitely not saying you shouldn't give each relationship your all. In fact, I am urging you to do quite the opposite. Let me explain. Remember when you went on that blind date with Joey and he seemed so amazing? And remember how he called you every day after school? And remember how you spent an hour in the card aisle at Rite-Aid finding the perfect card for Valentine's Day? And remember how you had butterflies in your stomach as you and him counted down in unison and then had your first kiss? And remember how you found out he was also kissing another girl at school? That's not how you thought it was supposed to go, right? You found a cool guy, you got along great, you gave it your all, and then it fell apart. But a week later, you felt completely fine...so fine, in fact, that you felt guilty. Don't. You're doing it right, I promise. Don't for a second feel like you have to go back to Joey. He's a jerk. And I'm sorry to break this to you, but there will be other jerks. There will be sweethearts too. You'll go on lots of first dates. You'll have lots of first kisses (you know how much you love the Mill, with the roof missing? You'll have one there). You'll have lots of "our song"s. You'll sneak out. You'll argue until you cry. You'll make up and promise to never fight again. You'll fight again. You'll stay up until 3 am talking about everything and nothing. You'll get giddy just thinking about him. You'll avoid his calls. You'll argue with your mom about him (go easy on her...she's right about more things than you think). You'll share things with him you never thought you'd share with anyone. You'll be jealous of his ex for no rational reason. You'll love him, and sometimes he won't love you back. He'll love you, and sometimes you won't love him back. And finally, you'll break up...there will be a lot of breakups. All the giddiness, excitement, butterflies, and love that come in between the breakups make the breakups themselves worth while. Enjoy this as much as you can and don't put too much pressure on yourself to find "the one." Keep doing what you're doing--keep yourself open to the experience, but when it doesn't work out, let it go. I have 4 journals worth of venting and rejoicing to back me up in saying that it will all work out for you.
2. Drama is highly overrated. I know everyone around you is gossiping and telling secrets and just conducting themselves with a general air of soap opera drama, but trust me, you are better off not involving yourself. Remember when Chelsea started dating Jason (suspiciously) soon after you and him broke up? She apologized (via a letter from him) and you gave her a second chance. However, she spent the whole time talking about how amazing her boyfriend Jason is. When you got up and walked away from her mid-sentence at the lunch table, you made the right choice. When you avoided her next 14 phone calls, you made the right choice. You recognized that she was bad for you, that she was making you feel sad and mad, and you remedied the situation. She tried to make you feel guilty by talking behind your back about how the two of you were supposed to be best friends forever. Don't fall for it. What you did was healthy and right. The less time you spend trying to make the Chelseas of the world happy, the more time you will have to find friends who won't hurt you and fill your life with drama. You are fully entitled to a life surrounded by good people. 
3. Slow down. So, you've got classes, four extracurricular activities, and two regular babysitting jobs. Not to mention you take on so much responsibility at home, what with taking care of Jake, mediating Kari and Ryan's semi-constant fights, and just generally trying to make your mom's life as easy as possible. You are 13, Shawn. You are a kid. There will come a day when you have no choice but to be hard-working, responsible, and mature, because it's part of your job. But for now, I beg of you, just enjoy the sheer simplicity of your life! I know it feels like you already have so much to do--so much expected of you! But think about it, if you missed class today, bailed on your after-school stuff, called in sick to your babysitting job, and just locked yourself in your room to watch cartoons, what's the worst that would happen? You'd disappoint a few people, yes, but life would go on. That's because you are a kid. These are the years when you are supposed to be using your time to play, explore, and relax. You don't need to be using your time to act like an adult. That will come soon enough. I know you're embarrassed to admit to anyone that you still play with Barbies. You sneak over to the Camerons some afternoons to play with Taylor and her incredible collection. Your best friend Kayla has already let her boyfriend touch her boobs, and here you are still playing with dolls. It's okay...there is no rush. Play Barbies with Taylor for 3 hours. Then jump on the trampoline until you can barely breathe. And then listen to Britney Spears in the tree house. This is not only normal, but it's fun, isn't it? I don't want to give away the ending, but if Kayla had been playing with dolls and not letting boys play with her boobs, she might be in a better place right now. 

*Mig, sorry I didn't write this sooner. I have a difficult time sitting down and thinking/writing about something other than law for more than 20 minutes. Hopefully this helps for the next time you see Cassidy.

A Lot Can Change

I just found this picture on my old Myspace blog. Yes, I still have a Myspace. It is less a sign of failing to keep-up-with-the-times and more a testament to how sentimental I am. Anyway, this picture! It seems like just some trees and sun glare, right? When I took this photo, I was 18 years old, visiting San Francisco for maybe the third time ever. My friend Joel and I had some time to kill before the Halloween celebration in the Castro, so we randomly chose a BART stop to get off at. I thought this area was beautiful, so we sat down. Next month, it will be 4 years exactly since that day. Little did I know I'd be living 3 minutes from there. I'd be shopping at a Farmer's Market across the street. I'd be doing yoga in this very spot. I'd be running through here drunkenly after a happy hour. I'd be seeing Backstreet Boys perform in front of City Hall (speaking of that, I had no idea that was City Hall at the time I took this picture!) I really never imagined I'd live somewhere this incredible. Sure, it's cold most of the time, my neighborhood usually smells like urine, and I often wonder if those people on the sidewalk are dead or just sleeping...but still, it's wonderful! There's culture and good food and awesome bars and easy transportation and beautiful parks and courthouses and museums and the bay and music and a long-standing tradition of open-mindedness, love, and creativity. I feel so lucky that I'm able to call it my city. And I hope I can for a very, very long time. 

Adoption

It's kind of weird to think that my little sister's birth mom and adopted mom are friends on Facebook. You used to have to go through loads of paperwork and investigation to find your birth mother...now, all Cassie has to do is look through her mom's friends list for someone who looks like her.

My Journal

I have a journal. Or a diary, if that's what you prefer to call it. I love reading old entries and laughing at myself, realizing that I was worried over nothing. It's also just nice to have a reminder about how I felt about something important, right when it happened. What I hate to admit, however, is that 90% of my journal entries have been about a guy. I actually went through the other day and counted how many entries I had written that didn't mention a guy once. I don't even want to say the number; it's embarrassing. This makes me feel like a pathetic, boy-crazy 13-year-old. If someone is actually interested in reading my journal after I'm dead, they are going to think I spent all my time chasing boys and recovering from break-ups. They will think that I had nothing to say about world issues or human rights or spirituality or anything else important-sounding. I don't think this is the case in my everyday life though. Consciously, I'm pretty sure I don't worry all that much about relationships (at least not anymore)...it's just that when I sit down to write my thoughts, that's all that comes to mind. I know it seems silly that I should even care what others might think of what I'm writing in my journal; after all, it's for me, and not for someone else. I guess I just wish I had something more deep and meaningful to write than "Why hasn't he called me back?!"

So, I was really excited when I came to this passage in the book I'm reading: "And then I remember a story my friend Deborah the psychologist told me once. Back in the 1980s, she was asked by the city of Philadelphia if she could volunteer to offer psychological counseling to a group of Cambodian refugees...These Cambodians had suffered the worst of what humans can inflict on each other--genocide, rape, torture, starvation, the murder of their relatives before their eyes, then long years in refugee camps and dangerous boat trips to the West where people die and corpses were fed to sharks--what could Deborah offer these people in terms of help? How could she possibly relate to their suffering? 'But don't you know,' Deborah reported to me, 'what all these people wanted to talk about, once they could see a counselor?' It was all: I met this guy when I was living in the refugee camp, and we fell in love. I thought he really loved me, but when we were separated on different boats, he took up with my cousin. Now he's married to her, but he says he really loves me, and he keeps calling me, and I know I should tell him to go away, but I still love him and I can't stop thinking about him. And I don't know what to do...This is what we are all like. Collectively, as a species, this is our emotional landscape. I met an old lady once, almost one hundred years old, and she told me, 'There are only two questions that human beings have ever fought over, all through history. How much do you love me? And Who's in charge?' Everything else is somehow manageable. But these two questions of love and control undo us all..."

I guess it's not just me then.