One of my childhood friends sent me this photo:
That's me, Katie, and Shannon on our first day of seventh grade. I am the one on the left with big permed bob. My hair was awesome, people. AWESOME. And I am wearing an Espirit skort. I have on Sam and Libby ballet flats too.
That's Katie's mom's hatchback next to me. We were so frickin' cool that we didn't have to walk to school.
I remember feeling like such a grown-up on the first day of Junior High. I also remember feeling incredibly nervous. I would be making new friends and have a different teacher for every class. I remember being so nervous about finding my way around the school - what if I got lost and, god forbid, was tardy? The goodie-two-shoes in me was practically getting an ulcer from the stress of the passing period. Then there was gym class where you had to change into your PE uniform in front of other girls. So embarrassing.
Seventh grade was the year that I had my first boyfriend. Had my first real kiss. Attended my first school dance. Seventh grade was the year that I had my first fight with my best friend. It was the year that I got to go on my first "group date" - my dad let me and five other friends see a movie while he watched a different one. Seventh grade was also the year that I took Journalism and found a love for writing.
In some ways, seventh grade feels like a lifetime ago. And in others, it feels like it was just yesterday. I look at my life now: successful career, good mother, home owner, responsible citizen. And yet there is still a part of me that feels like that young adolescent. Hoping to fit in, wanting to make friends, unsure of myself, questioning my every move.
Some say childhood is the best time of your life. Others say that you spend your while life trying to get over your childhood. For me, I think it is a little of both.
Except now, I wouldn't be caught dead in a skort.
