Today I’m thinking about… Time Machines and sorting out my younger self

It sounds incredibly self-involved, but every time I’ve sat and fatasized about jumping into a time machine, it hasn’t been to go back and slay baby Hitler or save a few of my ancestors from a brutal witchy barbeque. In fact, aside from the numerous and somewhat worrying Louis the XIV fantasies, much of these sci-fi dreamscapes have involved my sitting on a silver seat, in a playground talking with my nine year old self.

Recently I read a blog post written by a mid-thirties journalist about what she would tell herself were she able to step back in time to her childhood. Not to copy her idea or anything (OK, to copy her idea), but I’ve decided to write a list of the things I’ve always wanted to tell my little, naiive prototype. Brace yourself, because this might get emotionally indulgent (and just a little bit gross).

Don’t confuse confidence with arrogance. This is certainly one I still struggle with, but it’s an extremely important distinction to make. I know that you appreciate and in fact value humility and try your best to be humble, but there is a difference between being humble and being down right self deprecating. Arrogance is what happens when you believe yourself to be better than everyone else. Confidence is believing in yourself. Full stop. And confidence is the most attractive tool a woman can possess, little lady.

Put down the chocolate bar, pick up a hobby. You’re bored, I know. You feel down a lot, your brother calls you names and your friends aren’t really being quite, well, friendly. But that doesn’t mean you should lock yourself in a room, watch cartoons and stuff your face with mars bars. You don’t even really like mars bars. You like ice skating. You like reading. You like gardening. You like comics. This isn’t a fat or thin thing, this is a feel better about yourself thing. These things will make you feel better. Do more of them. Right now.

Boys will like you in the future (don’t let them fuck with you). You’ve had crushes on boys since Kindy, and maybe before then, you can’t remember. Whatever drives this, whether it be gross fascination, innate curiosity or a premature overbearing desire to procreate, is not something to be ashamed of, or ignored. It is, however, superfluous to your current and future state of being. Don’t let crushes weigh you down. Your ambition and your happiness are more important than any boy out there. And remember that crushes, no matter how brutal, never last.

Hygeine and sunscreen are the only beauty tricks you need concern yourself with. Your friends are bringing pink lipgloss and bright green eye shadow to school which is like, way cool, I know. But before you slap that on to look like a trailer park Lolita remember that if you smell good, if you have clean, brushed hair and if you look after your skin, while all your ‘friends’ are slathering that shit on to cover up all the damage they’ve done to their skin, you’ll be grateful that you can get away without wearing it all the freakin’ time.

Drink water, all the time. Your future pubescent self will thank you for it.

Most friends come and go, and that’s fine. Sometimes never seeing or speaking to someone again is a good thing. Sometimes getting kicked out of a group is a godsend. And some time, in the future, you’ll meet some people who really get you, and why you never fit with anyone else will suddenly make perfect sense.

In a few years, you’ll get your period. Talk to mum about it, thoroughly. Ask her all the questions you’ll be terrified to ask. This will save you from so many embarrasing episodes. So, so, sooooo many.

Have respect for the things you want to pursue. You write, you always have, and you’ve always wanted to. You may hate everything you scribe on a piece of paper, but don’t. Some of it is awful, but some of it is so interesting, funny and imaginative that it deserves your respect. You sing, it’s your dream to be a singer. Stop telling yourself how terrible your voice is and go get lessons. Mum wants to put you in music lessons anyway.

Don’t give up piano. Even though you have an out of tune piano at home, it will be worth it, in the end.

Failure isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’ve spent my life feeling like a failure. Putting things off or not trying them at all because I was so sure I’d never make it. I felt like it would be better to outsmart failure through my cunning ninja tactics than let it nab me when I was at my most exposed. Thing is, seeing a giant F stamped across your work isn’t actually that big a deal. Time has a really lovely way of pushing that fat, obnoxious F into the past and moving you forward. You are using a fear of failure as an excuse, and you are far too intelligent to be that emphatically lazy. If you succeed, brilliant. If you fail? Well, I certainly don’t give a damn, so why should you?

OK, 9 year old self, I’m outty. But one more thing before I go. It’s OK to be the Yellow Ranger. She was a Sabre-freakin’-Toothed Tiger. What was the Pink Ranger? Oh, that’s right, a glorified bird. Ew.