K. A. Holt
Hi! It’s your thirty-six-year-old self. What?! I know! (Good news: You finally have boobs. Bad news: That’s not what I want to talk to you about.)
I want to tear your attention away from whatever poem you’re writing, or world crisis you’re trying to solve, and I want to address something more…personal.
I’m going to show you a list and see if you can figure out what the common ingredient is:
Writing. Books. Drinking coffee. Sleeping all day on Saturdays. Studying art. Trying to create a rip in the space-time continuum by figuring out the meaning of life. Listening to loud music. Going to plays. Making lists.
See what they have in common?
Yes.
That’s right.
Those are all things you enjoy more than dating.
I just wanted to send you this note (although the technology that I used is a secret, trust me: It won’t do any harm to the space-time continuum) to let you know that this is 100 percent completely okay. Just because you’re a teenager doesn’t mean you have to be boy-crazy. Your best friend might have a different boyfriend every two weeks and spend every spare second making out in the halls at school, but this doesn’t mean you have to do the same thing. And I know it seems like every movie you see has a girl pining for a boy, but that doesn’t mean you have to, too. I promise.
Boys can be great. You know that. They’re funny and smart and nice to talk to. You like how their hands look, and sometimes you wonder what it would be like to sniff the backs of their necks. HOWEVER, this doesn’t mean you need to say yes to any guy who asks to be your boyfriend. It doesn’t mean you have to let boys put their hands all over you because “that’s what teenagers do.”
You don’t have to date if you don’t want to. Hang out with your friends, go to parties, but don’t feel bad about those nights you want to lock yourself in your room with Anastasia Krupnik. (And even though I know that you think you’re too old to be reading Lois Lowry, you’re not—in fact, you still love Lois Lowry.)
Another thing—remember, I know your all your secrets—it’s also absolutely okay if, when you’re ready, you want to mix it up and date some girls, too. Just remember, the same rules apply. When you think no, say no. When you’re not ready, say, “I’m not ready.” And if you’d rather put on your headphones and read about Anastasia or Harriet the Spy or Scarlett O’Hara, you don’t have to apologize.
There will be plenty of time for you to date. You have years to find your soul mate. Right now, though, I want you to concentrate on learning how to stand up for yourself. Do what you want, not what you think you should want. You’ll figure it out. I promise.
Try to ignore all the pressure you feel to be a boy-crazy teen. Enjoy your quiet moments. Take time to listen to yourself. Then go for it.
Cool? Cool.
P.S. Boobs! OMG, I KNOW! FINALLY!
K. A. Holt is a mama, a terrible cook, and the author of Mike Stellar: Nerves of Steel (2009) and Brains for Lunch: A Zombie Novel in Haiku?! (2010). When she’s not busy imagining how she would travel to Mars or survive a zombie apocalypse, she’s busy imagining how she will survive the day. Brains for Lunch recently received a starred review in Publishers Weekly and was highlighted on the Texas Library Association’s Annotated Lone Star Reading List for 2011. K. A. lives in Austin, Texas, with her husband and three children. None of them have been to Mars or are zombies. Yet.