Dear Younger, Thinner, Less-Wise Me…

If you look up ‘The Worst’ on Urban Dictionary there’s a picture of me looking sheepish next to my laptop.

These past few months have been a total roller-coaster, and I’m absolutely knackered just thinking about it to be honest. I’ve said so many times that I’ll pull my finger out and get back to blogging on the reg’, but adult life gets in the way and, by the time I collapse onto my settee every evening, I can barely muster up the strength to change the TV channel never mind get my thoughts in order for a blog post.

Well, that’s OFFICIALLY going to change. I’ve written it down now. A bloggers contract is binding, probably. I will be annoying you all with weekly posts from now until the E N D  O F  T I M E.

A uni-mate of mine posted a blog entitled ‘Dear Me…’ today (read it here, and you’ll want to follow her around screaming Little Mix – Little Me lyrics at her for a few hours. Totes emosh), and being the little idea-stealer that I am I thought I’d do the same. Not only will it get me posting again, but it’ll give you all a little insight of what I’ve been up to since I dropped off the face of the earth.

So here’s my rendition of things I’d like to blag my younger self about:

Dear younger, thinner, less-wise Lauren,

Well well well, look at you. You’ve only went and got yourself into your first choice for uni, and the time has come to wave goodbye to the carefree life of being a teenager and join the REAL WORLD (haha, just kidding. Wait until you turn 21).

I know you’re scared, but I also know you’re super excited to prove yourself and become the best journalist that Sunderland Uni’s ever had the pleasure of producing. Well mate, you can forget about that.
You might have been number one blogger in your College classes up until now, but University’s going to be a whole new kettle of fish. You’re getting thrown in to the lions den, surrounded by people JUST as passionate and JUST as willing as you to get what they want. Some of them will trip and fall at the first hurdle, and you’ll secretly think “THANK GOD, one less competitor to worry about”. Others will be more willing to put in the blood, sweat and tears than you are (I know right, who’d of thought year 2 would make you so lazy?). Hell, some people will run journalistic-circles around you without even making an effort, which will be something you spend hours bitching about to your newest friends.

That brings us on to our next point. Over the next few years, you will meet some of the most amazing and diverse people. You’ll cry when you have to leave them, and still think about the great times you had together often. Like the, rightly labelled, Funnest Day Ever after handing in your dissertation, or played ‘Never Have I Ever’ on a school-night and wanted to die throughout your lectures.

You label yourself as an unsociable person, claim that you’d rather be on your own to concentrate on your work, but by-hell lassie, get a grip will you? The next three years will be the most isolating of your life, so grab these friendships and run with them. You’ll need someone to stay with you through all-nighters at the library after all.

As it happens, you’ll also make a different kind of friendship. While you’re Bridget Jone’sing it up, giving the death-stare anything with a penis that dares to cast their eye on you, you’ll swipe ‘right’ on Tinder and end up meeting the love of your life. Over the next few years you’ll get to know him – and you’ll seriously consider homicide in the process – but you’ll come to realize that nobody has ever ‘got you’ quite like him, or made you laugh even on your worst day. You’ll go on amazing adventures but be just as happy to spend an evening binge-watching Netflix and not communicating. Apparently he’ll feel the same about you, so much so that he’ll ask you to marry him two and a half years later. That’s right, someone wants to marry YOU. Even with your stinking attitude, pennance for desert and inability to let the little things go. If you could actually receive this message in good time and start the wedding diet in, say, 2014, that’d be great. You’re actually a house-end come 2016. Put the fork down. Srsly.

You’ll fly the nest. You will be SO relieved to be out, after living through three years of hell with a pair of pre-teens that communicate in either squeals or grunts, but once you’re moved in, you’ll be unpacking your books and the most emotional song in the entire world will come on the radio (Iris – GooGoo Dolls, FYI) and you’ll fall to pieces realizing that you don’t live with your mammy anymore. As it happens, you can’t get bloody rid of her now anyway, so that will make it sort of okay.

OH! I almost forgot to tell you the best bit. You’ll absolutely SMASH uni and realize exactly what your life’s heading for. True, we haven’t quite got things up and running yet, but it’s coming, I can feel it in my bones!

So yeah, your life is going pretty spectacularly so far. People love and care about you, you still have your hopes and dreams, and your future’s looking bright. Well, sometimes. You know how your mood-swings are.

Stop being such a nervous-pervis and go with the flow, it’ll all work out in the end.

I promise.

Lots of love,
Your older, wiser self x

P.S: You’re still bald. Soz.

 

 

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