This seemingly right of passage to dye my own hair -to the stress of my mother- aging. I’m only sixteen but I’m already asked if I need car insurance at weddings and offered alcohol at events and weddings (I’m a good girl, I always decline I swear!) and asked if I’m pregnant at work. I’m not, but thanks.
Now I’ve started to panic I don’t think I’ll really stop, no one around me wants to get old. I always did. Although I don’t particularly like that idea so much; standing still.
It’s normal at my age to feel the need of preserving.
I’ve been writing a diary and reading old ones, looking at the way I wrote my thoughts and the way my mind worked
It easier when you write your thoughts in letters, so that the message is sent down the line to a later version of yourself (I named my diary after a book crush I have) and that’s all so much easier when you learn to accept and develop a life long love of yourself!
Who thinks vanity is a bad thing?