A love note to my inner teenager

My current theme of healing is focusing on my inner teenager. As I write this, I’m listening to Le Tigre’s Deception — a song I blasted and danced to often during my teenage years.

I think I often overlook this point of my childhood when going through healing processes. I thought it was “not as important” as my elementary years. But I think that’s a big mistake.

During my teenage years, I was grappling with getting the male gaze for the first time. A changing landscape of a body that didn’t feel safe. Breasts that I smothered down with sports bras.

I leaned into what was expected of me at that time, and at times I loved it. I loved the volleying of a flirty conversation; they were the only conversations that felt alive to me because I had yet to learn about the beauty of an intellectual conversation. I loved the playfulness. I loved the female friendships and the traditions; the trips to the mall, the getting ready together, the school dances, the sleepovers.

I think I always enjoyed having male friends, to have a connection with the opposite sex. But the storyline I was fed and the dark reality of it was that this wasn’t a time for befriending those of the opposite sex. This was a time where the emphasis was placed on romantic relationships.

There was so much to work through during those times, but I didn’t have the tools or the maturity to do anything about it. I knew enough to know that I loved the times when boys were interested in me because that would mean connection and conversation, but I hated when feelings were spoken because that meant the end or the shift of that relationship. I realize now that I just wanted a consistent male presence that made me feel seen and known — but the problem was I was looking at male children for that acknowledgment.

Not to mention the bullying.

The bullying gave me a deep sisterhood wound. I came to believe if you angered or “competed” with a “friend” too much that it could mean an attack.

When I get to the root of it, I had a deep belief from that time period that told me that male friendships could mean you were labeled as a tease and female friendships could mean competition.

Writing this all out makes me feel sad for this former self. But, she also feels so seen and acknowledged, which is really all she wanted.

And now, my inner teenager feels like it’s time for a dance in celebration for this bravery and unearthing.

xoxo