Tuesday 19 March 2013

A Letter To My High School Self


Dear High School Floraidh,

Oh, I know...that bastard. No big speech, no talk of you growing up so quickly, no "just be yourself". That bastard - dad, more specifically - has abandoned you at the school gates on my first day of secondary school, because he soooooo desperately needs the loo. He could not even walk you in the doors, so urgent was this need to pee. The emptying of his bladder was more desperate than what seems to be the singularly most important day of your life so far. You've left Germany behind, still filled with sadness and longing for the memories you wish to relive every single day, and you're in a town nobody seems to have heard of, on your first day of An Actual British Secondary School. You don't know what to do. You are alone.

Standing there, you attempt to look windswept and interesting with your shiny new rucksack and the trendiest school shoes you could find ("Shopping for school stuff in the UK is so much easier than back in Germany, isn't it?"), and simply wait. You're waiting for somebody to talk to you, but they never arrive. The bell rings, and you walk into the first door you can spot, still clinging on to the hope that someone to take you to one side and ask where the hell you've came from and would you like to be their best best best friend, you fascinating creature. Oddly, nobody does.

Nobody does for a long time, actually.

But it's fine. You have books, and My Chemical Romance. There are people like you out there - you know it, you've seen them on the internet - but they're just not at this school. But it doesn't solve the problem that you're lonely, and it's getting harder to stay optimistic about making a friend at school who doesn't think you're a Nazi, or wants you to talk German. The feeling of euphoria before a new day vanished, and becomes replaced with fear and dread. You tried to get away when you applied to a boarding school in Scotland. They didn't want you, and it breaks your heart. You feel like you're stuck in this little town with little minded people where you are just...invisible.

But somebody up there - no, not the sheer power of Gerard Way - is on your side. A group of nice girls reel you into their circle, and things look up so much for you. You suddenly have friends, who really do care. Things are good again, and you stop listening to "Helena" so frequently. You mopey, stiff-lipped  thing - your issue was your defeatist attitude; you were so young, and far too bleak. You might have been lonely but there were more options you could have taken. Whilst you'll always remember having to eat alone at lunch times and the endless silent weeping in lessons, here is the first lesson Wiser Floraidh wishes to give: always be proactive, not reactive. Don't wish for change, bring it about yourself.

Be assured that dad won't ever forget about leaving you at the school gates that day. He tries to laugh it off and makes it sound like some kooky anecdote, but you'll know he still feels guilty, and this is going to comfort you somewhat. Also, dying your hair black would have been RIDICULOUS. Who do you think you are? Amy Lee? Siouxsie Soux? Floraidh, you're not that girl, you know it. It's okay. To mum's relief, you do grow out of your emo phase. For a while, you'll contemplate becoming a goth, because it's a bit more dark and complex, but you reckon your hair isn't right for that either. Second lesson: you do not have to emulate the shit on the internet. Be yourself - that is the best and most honest representation you can offer the world.

One day, in Year 9, mum tells you something you're not supposed to know, but she's going to tell you anyway. She tells you that there's a chance - a slim chance, one that could maybe be swiped away at any minute - that dad could be posted back to Germany. You talk about it every single day for three weeks, and three months later, you're there.

Check you out, having fun! The next 2 years really are fantastically kind to you. A lot of your old friends are still in Germany, including one, who you really do think is one of the most fantastic people you know - your paths will cross, and end, and you'll get lost on that particular path a few times, I'll tell you that. But he's going to be one of the most important people you'll ever meet. You will still trust him years later and seek him out for any advice - no matter how trivial - even when you start to disengage with others you once held close. That's the metanarrative of the military lifestyle; you will eventually have to deal with being left behind, and leaving people behind. Lesson three: recognize who these people are.

It was a funny old time really, wasn't it? Secondary school. It really did start awfully, but ended on such a high. At the time, you really do think you're the dog's bollocks. You think the weight of the world is on your shoulders with all your silly boy troubles, petty friendship squabbles and your so-called "life determining" GCSE exams. None of these things, ultimately, matter at all, and you didn't realize it at the time. Younger Floraidh, I really do wish I could reach into the past and shake you sometimes; you had such a habit of focusing on what was going wrong, instead of what was going right. At times you couldn't see the beauty in doors closing, in order for others to open; sure, some dude doesn't like you and likes another girl. So what? There are plenty of guys out there. Lesson Four: know what matters really deserve your time and attention. (like your GCSEs, which you maybe could pay more attention to...)

Here is the best lesson of all, I think: have fun. Think nothing of the future, nor the past, and make the most of every minute. You will grow to treasure those times so much. One last reminder - seriously, what are you thinking? Black hair would be just....awful. Disastrous. You're the shade of milk, you silly cow.

All the best,

Bona fide college student Floraidh - still making mistakes, saying silly things and overthinking, but a lot wiser and cooler than I ever was in high school. xxx