Reasons Why I Don’t Miss My Teen Years
Our friends over at The Gloss recently did a post on all the things they don’t miss about being in their twenties. But as a twenty-something myself, I’ve gotta say – I’m pretty content. Sure, there are moments I wish I had a little more cash or that my job was a bit cushier. But some of their points were reminiscent of things I realized in my teens.
Granted, I’ve always been way ahead of the social learning curve but I think most of us would agree. Forget leaving your twenties behind, I think those awkward early teen years are the ones I’d sooner like to leave in the dust. Seriously. Do you remember…
Having not-so-great fashion sense.
I remember being a freshman in high school and wearing an Abercrombie tee for gym class that said “Nighttime Full-Contact Football” across my boobs in sparkly letters. And I believe I paired that stellar top with some white running shorts and those Adidas sneakers everyone had. Except mine were gold. Now tell me, who let me walk out of the locker room looking like such a horrendous mess?
Maybe you were the brunette who tried Sun-In and ended up looking like Carrot Top. Maybe you thought pink highlights were a good statement to make. Maybe you didn’t know what a flat iron was. Or were you like me and experimented briefly (but on multiple occasions) with bangs? And I’m not talking about the cool side-sweepy ones.
Dating idiot guys because they were cool.
You learned to interpret their various grunts because words just escaped these beautiful creatures. The epitome of high school dating success was having the hunky captain of a major sports team (aka basically any of the teams except golf club) walk you to class. It didn’t matter if he was a senior taking freshman English for the fourth time or if his drink of choice was Peppermint Schnapps stolen from his parents’ liquor cabinet. You were in L.U.V.
Braces. Acne. Glasses.
The nerd trifecta. Chances are you had at least one. If you suffered through all three, then I’m super proud you made it out alive. You must have had an excellent psychiatrist.
“Dad, can I get a ride?”
Unless you lived in the deep South where they practically hand you a diver’s license along with your birth certificate, chances are you were bumming rides from the ‘rents 24/7. What’s cooler than getting picked up from a party in a Volvo station wagon driven by a 45 year-old-man in his pajamas? Pretty much anything.
What do you miss least about your teen years?