stay in school kids

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, it really is. If I could give 15 year-old me a quick call or a WhatsApp just to tell her to step away from the cake and avoid that English Literature degree then I would, but 15 year-old me would probably just tell me to fucking do one.

Each and every year of school, like many others before me, I’d convince myself that I was wicked cool. I’d untuck my school shirt, wear offensive pink eyeshadow and hang out on the basketball courts eating the aforementioned cake with a kind of self-assurance you grow out of towards the end of your teens. In actual fact, I was part of a crew of girls who were quite cool, and as the fat funny one of the group I’d hope I wasn’t quite as hated by everyone as the popular girls tend to be, but I probably was. We were probably only popular amongst ourselves. Continue reading “stay in school kids”