After the concert the other night I ended up having an exchange with a school friend that started out about people who, as I (annoyed at the time) put it on FB “have an unfounded superiority complex, 20 odd years later”. This exchange made me think about how we ended up turning out, the Class of ’90. (Yes, I’m THAT old, 40 lurks gleefully and I’m barreling toward it, arms wide open)
Call it existentialism, call it misguided nostalgia for those simple days of not having any responsibility bar not falling pregnant and PLEASE just pass Matric well enough to get into Varsity, but I’m thinking about getting from school to where I am now.
I’m trying to remember what I wanted for myself, what my dreams were.
I do remember wanting to write (tick) and wanting to make a difference (half-tick). I also remember wanting desperately to feel loved and accepted and give love in return without manipulation (tick). (Yes, I have issues, big ones)
I don’t remember ever thinking about one day having actual children of my own, apart from “one day when I have children I will NOT be like my mother”. I remember wanting a career in some unknown something and loving psychology, even though I studied law. I recall knowing going to University was expected of me and how we looked down our noses at people who went to Technicon. How wrong we were. That is probably my only big “fail”, not finishing my degree, but it did lead me to other wonderful things.
And then I started wondering…
What would my 17-year-old self think of the person I have become today? Would I have made myself proud? Would I be someone to look up to and aspire to be like? Are those desires I had for myself still relevant and valid or do they sometimes stand in the way of being a better me?
I don’t think I’m doing too badly, for starters I like myself a LOT more than I did at school (and even 12 months ago), saggy boobs, stretch marks, big mouth and all. My 17-year-old self would hopefully not run screaming from my 39-year-old self. I do think my 17-year-old self would be a little confused at the concept of having a career only to want to compromise it by not working full-time because of the children I didn’t consider back then. At that age I certainly didn’t contemplate marriage/children/work happily co-existing. I still battle with it, but we are at a cease-fire at the moment.
What would your 17-year-old self think about you today? How would you measure up?
ps. I have been thinking about this post for a couple of days now and remembered a Janis Ian song in the shower this morning. I used to listen to A LOT of Janis Ian. Her lyrics are like old friends I haven’t seen in a very long time.
The song is called At Seventeen, and here are the lyrics:
I learned the truth at seventeen That love was meant for beauty queens In high school girls with clear skinned smiles Who married young and then retired The valentines I never knew The Friday night charades of youth Were spent on one more beautiful At seventeen I learned the truth And those of us with ravaged faces Lacking in the social graces Desperately remained at home Inventing lovers on the phone Who called to say come dance with me And murmured vague obscenities It isn’t all it seems At seventeen A brown eyed girl in hand me downs Whose name I never could pronounce Said, Pity please the ones who serve They only get what they deserve And the rich relationed hometown queen Married into what she needs A guarantee of company And haven for the elderly Remember those who win the game Lose the love they sought to gain Indebentures of quality And dubious integrity Their small town eyes will gape at you in dull surprise when payment due Exceeds accounts received At seventeen To those of us who knew the pain Of valentines that never came And those whose names were never called When choosing sides for basketball It was long ago and far away The world was younger than today And dreams were all they gave for free To ugly duckling girls like me We all play the game and when we dare To cheat ourselves at solitaire Inventing lovers on the phone Repenting other lives unknown That call and say, come dance with me And murmur vague obscenities At ugly girls like me At seventeen