That year as the doors opened to my local middle school, for the first time in my life I felt like a super model. I was going to own that school, all based upon this one blouse. And that was true, for all of about 10 seconds when I realized I was the biggest dork ever to walk the halls of that fine institution.
I quickly realized that most kids my age were wearing T-shirts and jeans, not blouses that looked like they were about to enlist. My world came crashing down and — I’ve no way to prove this — I swear that was the longest day in history. At least it was in my little life.
I knew shopping for real clothes was a lot of money and I didn’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings, so instead I refused to wear that top again. Puzzled by why I had wadded the blouse that I had once held to the highest of standards and tossed it on the bottom of the closet floor, my mom questioned my behavior.
Too proud to confess my feelings, our relationship from that point consisted of mostly fights and tears. Being a teenager is not an easy battle.
And from that story, you can paint your own picture of what my teen years were like. I assume that sailor top is why I never had a date until college — you know, when I left the state.
Sarah, I hope that your teen years are smoother than mine. I hope you never make questionable clothing choices. I hope that you don’t have to leave the state before you can find true romance.
I can’t wait to see what the next 14 years brings. You’ve amazed me to no end, and I thank the good Lord every day that you call me Aunt Shana.
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