Letter to my 16 year old self.

Randomly a couple of months ago, I was asked to write a letter to my 16 year old self. 

Here it is.

43 Meadow View

Cumbernauld 

Glasgow G67

Sometime in 1981

Dear 16-year-old self,

Ok, this is going to be a shocker, but Elton John is gay. 
Yes he is. 

I don’t care if he marries a woman. He’s gay. 
Oh and BTW (that means ‘by the way’ BTW)  I know you’re worried because that Rangers supporting, douchebag at school keeps telling everybody you’re a lesbian.  Relax. You’re not.  Because…?

That’s right, because you’re not attracted to women.  

Sexuality isn’t decided by what people shout at you.

But whilst we're on the subject, “bullying” someone for being a lesbian, makes as much sense as “bullying” someone for having feet, or curly hair, or a dimple when they smile. 

There’s nothing weird, shameful or unnatural about homosexuality.

The douchebag is an idiot.  If you can’t enlighten him, ignore him.

There will always be douchebags in the world.  

Paying them too much attention helps neither them nor you.

Right now, it feels like you’ll be living in this little town and going to school forever. You won’t.  In 3 years time, you’ll be living and working in New York.

New York won’t be easy.  You’ll witness drug addiction way too close, and what you see will put you off drugs forever.

Stand your ground.

That sweet little funny guy you like, but don’t want to sleep with, don’t.

His feelings will be hurt and you will feel bad, but instinct is an ally.

That sweet little guy has something called “AIDS”,  a horrible new disease that, very soon, will seem unstoppable.  

In 5 years time your smart, funny friend will be dead.

Life is not fair.

Don’t expect it to be.

And whilst you’re still breathing, don’t complain that it’s not.

Your heart will break a couple of times and (though you won’t believe it) it really does work out for the best: These relationships are merely practice runs.

You will meet “the one” by chance.

You will know and so will he.  Like I said before, instinct is your ally. Stop trying to ignore it.

You will lose your Mum and Dad and it will be excruciating and, even though you won’t want to, you will keep breathing.

You will tell yourself, they’re not really gone, and they’re just cruising round the Bahamas and don’t have phone contact. Some days you will remember.

You will marry ‘the one’ and have two, quite perfect, sons who drive you crazy, but who keep you breathing when you remember about the Bahamas.

Oh, one more thing.

There’s this amazing invention – even more impressive than a video recorder – called a computer.  And something called “the internet”. They will change the world (and when I say that, I mean it).

Anyway, back to Elton (I know, I can’t believe I’m using him as a metaphor either).

Right now he’s not happy. One day he will be, but to do that he has to stop being afraid.

Be as honest with yourself as you can bear to be, 16-year-old self , and you’ll be your own best friend.

Lie, and you will always be your own worst enemy.

And remember to be kind to people you meet along the way because,  though it might not appear so, their struggles are very very much like your own.

Lastly:

The big event of the year (aside from your 16^th birthday) is that  Prince Charles is going to marry Lady Diana Spencer. 

They’ll have a much bigger party, but you’re going to have a much better time.

Stars and Stripes

My eldest son is 10. Last night, we found his pet  hamster still and lifeless, curled up in its little bed, looking to the world to be fast asleep. My son, suddenly glassy eyed, asked me if he was going to be ok. Could I make him ok?

I said I didn't know, but we could try. 
We sat by the fire trying to warm the hamster's little body but, after a while, it was clear (to me) that he was dead.

Because Mark and I were going out and leaving the kids with a babysitter,  I said to my son that maybe  "Stripes" was just hibernating and that if we wrapped him in a warm blanket, maybe in the morning he might wake up.

This morning my son climbed into my bed. Snuggling up, tearful, he said he didn't think Stripes had moved, but he still had hope. Then (because he's the 10 year old he is) he went on to explain how there will always be hope, because that's what Pandora managed to hold on to, when she opened the box and let evil into the world.

Today I have two grieving kids.
It is sad and sorry and natural, and their comprehension of death is one furry wee body snuggled in pet bedding and buried in the corner of the garden.
I want to keep them away from the news.
As ridiculous as it is, I'm glad that tomorrow they don't need to be at school.
But there will be other tomorrows.
I'm grateful that bitch Pandora managed to hold on to something.

Stripes as an action hero...