Teen angst

My dad has found two of my diaries, from 1990 and 1991. Re-reading them was both disturbing – because I seem to have been hugely hung up on weight and dieting, whereas if you asked me now I’d have told you I didn’t give that kind of thing a second thought at thirteen – and fun, because – well, because it’s fun reading the diary of a teenage girl. Here’s a snippet:

Sunday 4 Feb, 1990

Another ultra mega cool day in Milton Keys [sic]. It is FAB here!!! I wanna stay and not go back to bloody fucking school.

Charmingly, I end each entry with three kisses. Perhaps I will start doing that here.

There are also a lot of entries which look like this (names changed to protect the innocent):

Friday 2 Feb, 1990

Now Debbie’s not talking to me because she thinks I’m back with Sarah again. What a hippo! (hypocrite). She’s always complaining cos Sarah says she can’t go round with Claire and now she says I can’t go round with Sarah if I want to be friends with her (not that I want to go round with Sarah anyway!)

How tiring it must have  been, being thirteen.

xxx

Edit: I should point out that the “Sarah” of the extract above is still one of my closest friends. In the diaries, we fall out FOR GOOD approximately once a week. I’m Facebook friends with “Debbie” but we never really had that much in common, and “Claire” turned out to be a total bitch after all. True story!

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