To my sweet, sixteen-year old self

In December, I was hunting down some last minute Christmas presants in my local shopping center and found this gorgeous little gift book in Collins *please excuse tacky nail polish. It was christmassy red and I was attempting to be festive*.  It's called 'Dear Me' and is a collection of letters from famous British personalities to their former sixteen-year old selves.  The letters ranged from the humourous anecdotes of Jon Ronson and Peter Kay to the expected coming-out advice of Elton John to the pretentious name-dropping of Joan Collins.  The letters were absolutely priceless and I started thinking about my teenage years and what advice I would possibly give if I were able to time travel back to my sixteen-year old self.

I turned sixteen in the year of the millenium.  I celebrated my sweet sixteenth in a security enclosed complex in Johanessburg, South Africa (which before the war in Afganistan was named as the most dangerous city in the world) and ended the year in Perth, Western Australia (most isolated city in the world.  Seriously).  A huge year of extremes and I did not adjust well to the sleepy way of coastal living or to the culture shock I was not expecting to experience in a city that has more South Africans than any I've ever encountered.

At sixteen, I was shy, homesick, lonely and self-conscious.  I did not like who I was or the kind of life that I had but had no idea how to go about changing these things.  I wasted so many opportunites because of my shyness and struggled so hard to fit into the Australian lifestyle and culture.  So if I could magically turn the clock back and whisper a quiet word in the ear of my sixteen-year old self, I would say:

Battle it out for the next few years because your twenties will be beautiful.  You will try things you never imagined and learn things about yourself that will thrill, frighten and mystify you.  You will meet people who will inspire you and astound you and even a few who will truly disgust you but it will all add to the collection of mischievous misadventures you will be known for having.  Take hip-hop classes because you will regret not doing so in years to come.  Piano lessons also.  Cherish every single moment you spend with your brother and take every opportunity to strengthen your relationship with him.  You have no idea how precious this will be in years to come.  Don't waste time on fair-weather friends because they will only disappoint you and in time you will make amazing friends who will value you and love you the way that real friends should.  In fact, your circle of friends will be positively international! Respect yourself and show respect to those around you, even if they don't deserve it because in doing so, you will become a much better person for it.  Love God and your family above all else because you have no idea how much you are going to need them in the years to come. 

And if, in 2007 you are on your way home from Dubai and a blue-eyed man from Bolton offers to carry your overweight shoulder bag for you, run! Run, run away as fast as your sparkly ballet-slippered feet will carry you and don't look back!

Speaking of time travel, what a weird coincidence it is that Book #5 on my list is 'The Time Traveler's Wife' by Audrey Niffenegger.  This was another one of the books that I took with me to Bali and I'll admit that I came back to my hotel room a little earlier some nights just so I could have a little bit of extra reading time with this book.

The story is about a guy who develops a disorder which causes him to time-travel against his will at any given time to any place he has every visited.  The condition gets worse as he gets older and he struggles to maintain the facade of having a normal life while trying to force his body to stay in the present.

Now, I'm not a huge fan of time travel stories.  Back to the Future did nothing for me and I never choose 'time travel' when asked what my imaginary superpower I would be if I had the option (teleporting, if you must know).  So I was thrilled to find that the heart of this novel is an old-fashioned love story that had me sobbing quietly underneath my hotel bedsheets in the early hours of the morning.

I have a real love/hate relationship with books like this.  I devour them with such gusto and finish them in a few days but then am left feeling quite deflated and lost once I've turned the final page.  I adore great romance novels but I always feel so melancholy afterwards, wondering if such sincere love really does exist.

What do you think?

Lots of love!
xxx