Posted in 2026, stories

It’s Him, Not You

What’s one thing you know now that would have saved your younger self a lot of pain?

It had been over 40 years since Nancy looked inside the box of “stuff” she’d been shuttling from house to house with every move. After this last, and she swore final, move, it got tucked away in the corner of the attic along with the old skis and Cody’s baby clothes.

The attic needed to be cleaned out for the central air unit being installed. Mark brought the box down and laid it at her feet saying, “I’ve moved this box 100 times, are you ready to let go of it?”. “Not without going through it first!”. “Well then, get on it”, and he walked away.

She opened it slowly, waiting to see if a mouse would be staring up at her. “No mouse, whew!”, she thought. But oh, what is this?

Sitting on top was her diary. Nancy was ten years old when she received it that Christmas from her older sister. What a find!

She settled back in her comfy chair and started reading. Five years. Some much changed between ages ten and 15. There were even some entries from when she was in college!

For a few entries she cringed, but most of them brought a smile to her face.

While flipping through the pages, something fell out. It was a note from a boyfriend when she was in her sophomore year of high school and she remembered clearly, it didn’t end well.

She read through the note and remembered how sad it made her. Everything he said he didn’t like, was her! She was 15, of course she was emotional! She was a cheerleader and a very friendly person in general, but he accused her of flirting. “Love of oneself, blinds one to one’s own faults”?! “What are you, Shakespeare?What the hell”, she thought, and followed that with “Fuck You!”.

The note brought those 15 year old emotions back to the surface and she remembered when the relationship ended how she tried to make herself smaller so she wouldn’t draw attention to herself. She had hoped he would see that she wasn’t that person any more and he would want to go back out with her. It hadn’t worked, he had moved on.

They say Hindsight is 20/20, and Nancy wished she could teleport herself back to 1976 to tell her younger self, “Be You. Be Brave. Be Kind to yourself. Never make yourself small to fit into someone’s idea of you. Regardless of what he said, Love yourself. The problem was not you, it was Him. The hangups were on him, not you.”

Nancy sat and read entries from her diary until the sun began setting through the trees. She enjoyed reading those moments in time, but she was happy she didn’t have to relive them!

Posted in 2026, Memories

The Note

It was the end of my sophomore year of high school and the end of a school-year long romance. An up-and-down, go round-and-round romance.

I cried a lot. I must have, because he gave me a box of tissues along with a small give for my 16th birthday. What a guy.

By the end of the year, we were barely speaking because he was avoiding me. I had to go to a girl friend in the group to find out what was going on. Evidently the fall was coming soon.

He expressed in words (his and evidently others), what he couldn’t say to me directly –

The Note

We broke up not long after, without me draining the DNA out of my body to become someone more suitable in his eyes.

Posted in 2026, Memories

Least Impressive Award

I was listening to something on the radio a few weeks ago. Likely just two DJs on the radio, but they were talking about the least impressive award they ever received. It was humorous, but I guess you had to be there!

It made me go back in time of course, to two awards I received 4 years apart, that to me were not what I wanted. They both made me feel shame because, although one was done in jest, I didn’t think that way about myself! Bear with me, I’m going into the Way Way Back machine.

Eight grade awards ceremony. Yup, 8th grade. I received an award called, “My Affair Lady” . Did I say this was a catholic school? Two classes for each grade at the time. So yeah, I had a couple of boyfriends that year. There were some tumultuous moments during the year. But did “the committee” really have to put it out there? I think what made it worse was, it was my twin sister and her friend who created the awards. I can still picture the friend really laughing it up. I’m sure I gave a smile and laughed but I felt the jab.

Senior year of high school. Class Superlatives. You know the ones? Best Smile, Cutest, Most Class Spirit. Me? Class Flirt. Wah-wah-wahhhhh. Pattern anyone? The superlatives are voted on by the class but once they reach the yearbook committee, all bets are off. If someone was top two in a category and they were on the committee, they picked which one they wanted, and give second place the other. I don’t sound bitter after 48 years do I? Anyway, yeah, Class Flirt. I guess I didn’t stray far from “My Affair Lady” did I? The male Flirt was someone I knew well, and he IS a shameful flirt. I was not like that, I thought to myself. I’m friendly, I talk to people (only boys evidently). But votes don’t lie right? We had our picture taken and it’s there for all eternity.

Why do I even care? Because I know that events like this affected my identity and self-worth as years went on. I might not have changed my pattern, obviously that was already ingrained, but it colored how I saw myself and what I thought about myself. Past events are going to be carried with you whether you say, “Oh that didn’t bother me at all” or not.

Posted in 2026, life, Memories

Comparison

“Comparison is the thief of Joy” is often attributed to Teddy Roosevelt, but it dates back much farther than the end of the 1800s. There are references to it in the bible telling us that “to compare oneself to others, steals joy and leads to sin.” Ok, a little deeper than I intended to go.

Comparison… how can you NOT compare yourself to everyone around you when you have spent your life being compared to someone else?

It starts early as a twin. Weigh a little more? Measure a little longer? Eat more, drink more, poop more. Getting the picture yet?

Move on to school. Who’s smarter? Better at math, better at reading, drawing, nothing changes. But wait ’til high school!

High School….who’s prettier? friendlier? who’s dating whom? She didn’t say hi – you must be the friendly one! Oh, wait, you’re the one that didn’t say hi to me last week, I guess you’re both bitches! And cheerleaders! How did you both make it at the same time? That’s not fair! You must know someone! Oh, you’re the better cheerleader! Wait, maybe she’s the better cheerleader, I forgot who is who!

The comparisons ended at the end of high school for the most part, but the damage was done. The damage was done years ago. The damage was done as soon as we went to school. How could it not? People, adults and children alike, are all human. People don’t think of the words that hit like pebbles every time a comparison is made.

When we were in 8th grade or so, poring over our cousin’s high school yearbook. There was a set of twins graduating that year. Pretty girls with long, blonde hair. One was so pretty, and the other was pretty, but just not quite as pretty. As if the picture was fuzzy. That’s how I felt right up until we graduated.

Comparison of everything under the sun subsided long ago and all that’s left is how I feel about my body. I glance at other woman to wonder if they are as short as me? Where do they find pants to fit? Are they forever unhappy with the shape of their body?

Why do I care? I’m strong and fit.

“Comparison IS the thief of Joy”