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Versions of Myself
Versions of Myself
Versions of Myself
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Versions of Myself

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In these pages, I don’t ever have to worry that I sound arrogant or ignorant or dumb or silly or narrow-minded or trivial or over-serious or any of the other things I fear in speech.

All over the world, stuffed into drawers and hidden in shoeboxes at the back of cupboards, lie the unread diaries of generations of young people. They record the heartaches and the heartbreaks, the agonies and the ecstasies, the boredom and the excitement of growing up. They are written as a form of therapy, an emotional outlet or simply as a way of being able to express on paper that which can be impossible to say out loud. They are both profoundly personal and entirely relatable and most of their authors would shudder at them being made public. One woman, however, has chosen to do just that.

In ‘Versions of Myself: The Diaries of a Young Woman’, Rosie Gillman tells the true story of her own very ordinary growing-up, exactly as she experienced it at the time. Through the pages of her teenage diaries, she charts the highs and lows of life from the age of twelve to twenty-two, as she navigated unrequited lust and friendship fall-outs, to finding and losing love and the existential crises of early adulthood. With honesty, humour and a new-found affection for the previously despised younger versions of herself, she records and reflects upon the mundane and the momentous, the big questions and the fleeting concerns, and the simultaneously unique and universal experiences that will strike a chord with anyone who has ever been young.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRosie Gillman
Release dateJun 29, 2018
ISBN9780463042168
Versions of Myself

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    Versions of Myself - Rosie Gillman

    Introduction

    Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering.

    – St Augustine

    For many years, I had told myself that I must type up my teenage diaries, just in case the house burns down and they are gone forever. This tone of slightly hysterical morbidity flashes through various sections of my recorded youth and demonstrates that as ‘grown-ups’ we are not really all so different to our younger selves. However, it did seem like a sensible thing to do, as the obvious limitations of paper diaries are that they remain vulnerable to the ravages of fading ink, damp, multiple moves between cupboards, cars and garages and generally being bashed about as they are hauled between the changing scenery of life.

    Withstanding the practicalities of committing my youthful ramblings to a more permanent format for my own personal posterity, for the majority of my twenties I regarded the earlier versions of myself with a wariness bordering on disdain. Whilst I recognised that one day I may want to read my oldest diaries, for the time being they were best left in shoe boxes at the back of a wardrobe. For can there be anything more painfully awkward than being confronted with the written evidence of one’s girlhood romances, introspections and immaturity? It’s bad enough being teasingly reminded by one’s parents, siblings and old friends, without having to confront the actual reality in pen-and-ink form. By contrast, my more recent diary entries conjured a different set of emotions in my memory; feelings of deep sadness for some of the anxieties and worries I carried around inside my own head for so long and a sense of regret for what I considered to have been missed opportunities for happiness in my late teens and early twenties.

    My attitude towards the younger versions of myself started to notably thaw when I started teaching in a large secondary school in Hertfordshire in my late twenties. By this point, I considered that I had changed so much in the enlightening intervening years that my former opinions, views and feelings were entirely non-credible and could therefore be viewed through a simple lens of self-deprecation. However, I increasingly encountered vague moments of déjà-vu as I spent the days and weeks in classrooms with teenagers and noticed that their experiences had unnervingly familiar echoes of my own. As I got to know them and witnessed their triumphs, humiliations, heartaches, falls from grace and sheer boredom at being bright and able and longing to be out of school, I was increasingly reminded of my own, all-too-similar feelings. I started to remember what it felt like to fancy a boy who didn’t fancy me back, to fall out with a friend and not know why and to feel like my parents didn’t understand what I was going through (whilst also not being able to articulate exactly what it was that I was ‘going through’ in the first place). Memories of my own school days came back into much clearer focus by being back in a school environment and I started to remember events and emotions that I had not thought about for years.

    After a while, it struck me that despite thinking that I alone had thought and felt all the myriad, complicated and deliciously dramatic emotions of my youth, in actual fact they were very much par for the course. This realisation didn’t undermine or diminish what I went through as a young woman, but rather put my own experiences into a refreshing and reassuring perspective. With the intensity of emotion that is unique to the young, I knew that I would never love again like I loved that boy, never feel again how I felt about that friend. And yet I kept thinking and feeling, well beyond the foggy haze that symbolises the end of school (for who can honestly say they clearly saw where their lives were headed once the school doors closed behind them?) and began to realise that romantic love is not the black and white, all-or-nothing end state of happiness. Equally, I started to recognise that friendships come in many forms and often don’t last forever, despite protestations of eternal loyalty.

    With my perspective on my much-ridiculed and pitied former self thus renewed, I began typing up my teenage diaries in a process that caused me to re-evaluate how I remember my youth. Reading back what I wrote all those years ago generated some reactions that I was well prepared for – namely sheer embarrassment – and yet also others for which I had not been prepared. I felt a sense of annoyance at some of the irresponsible guidance I was given and of deep compassion for the young woman I was becoming, who was trying very hard to live life well and not always knowing how to. This sense of compassion became heightened as I moved onto the diaries I kept when I was in my early twenties, when the amusing anecdotes of my teenage life gave way to the far more serious considerations of real relationships – ones that caused pain as well as happiness – and my pervading sense of guilt at having in some way betrayed the religion I purported to be faithful to.

    As such, what began as a simple way of preserving my own personal history became a much bigger process of re-observing my younger self through the lens of hindsight and identifying themes that are as old as time – love, sex, religion, identity, the meaning of it all – the grappling with which forms such an integral part of each individual’s journey through life. It is clear from my diaries that I thought the answers to my questions about these things would one day become apparent, when I was ‘grown-up’, and yet from the still relatively youthful vantage point of my early thirties, some still frustrate me. Indeed, I find myself no closer to existential certainty than the younger versions of myself were and I certainly have not found the answers to all of my questions. But I have learnt that there is an immense value in asking them and, along the way, have also learnt to be kinder to myself in their seeking.

    Chapter One

    It is easy, when you are young, to believe that what you desire is no less than what you deserve, to assume that if you want something badly enough, it is your God-given right to have it.

    – Jon Krakauer

    In January 2001, when these diaries begin, I was twelve-years-old and living with my Dad, Mum and sister in Barnet. Throughout my life, depending on who I was talking to, I would variously describe Barnet as being in Hertfordshire or north London, the variation in description relying on how much street credibility I wanted to disproportionately afford myself. For some reason, which bears no reflection on my very happy, secure and contented childhood, I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder at this age. I was in Year 8 at an all-girls independent school in St. Albans, Hertfordshire and tended to think that I was a bit more worldly-wise than my fellow students who had grown up mere miles away, but definitely not in a London Borough. Barnet itself, and particularly the part in which I grew up (you could see the Green Belt from the end of our road), was not in any way gritty or urban. In fact, it felt like a very small town indeed most of the time and thus my claims to city life were much more likely to be based on an ingrained need to be in some way different from my peers, and to lightly shock those who I considered too sensitive for their own good. This is a trait I have, by her own admission, inherited from my Mum.

    One of my keenest recollections from this time, which is not recorded in my diaries, is a feeling of particular disdain for my peers who hailed from small Hertfordshire towns and who seemed to me to epitomise the glossy-haired, sporty, wealthy mould of the average girl at my school. Despite coming from an affluent family myself, I enjoyed positioning myself as some sort of misfit, who had bravely shouldered open the doors of an elite establishment. The reality was that I was thoroughly middle-class and had gained a place at the school through the same examination system as everybody else. I suspect the real reason for my shoulder-chip was the fact that I was put on the waiting list for the school for a few months before being given a place, a fact that rankled me for a disproportionate amount of time afterwards.

    My day-to-day life at this point, like the vast majority of twelve-year-olds, was centred on school. Mine was reasonably but not intensely academic and thrived on a strong sense of tradition. I considered these traditions as something of a joke for the first few years at school, after which my feelings towards them became rather fonder. By Year 8, I had made a number of good friends with girls in my form group, in which we had all of our lessons except Maths. Establishing a friendship group was very important to me and having a ‘best friend’ was crucial, although I later came to see in my own teaching career that friendships at this age are symptomatic of the hormones that dictate them. They were in a constant state of ebb and flow; loyalty was everything and betrayal was final (or at least until the end of the school day). My friendships were intense and hugely important to me and I thought they would last forever.

    In addition to school, I also attended church with my family every Sunday. Ours was a very middle-of-the-road Church of England congregation and there were a number of young people of my own age who I had been in Sunday School with since nursery. By the time these diaries start I had graduated to the church’s youth group, named YPF (Young People’s Fellowship), which met after church on a Sunday evening and once during the week. At this stage in my life, I counted myself a Christian on the basis of my parents’ beliefs, church and summer Bible camp attendance and a general feeling that God loved me and had the whole world in His hands. My own personal exploration of faith developed somewhat later and at this point I rather regarded God as some sort of personal favour vending machine, who could be called upon to provide good exam results, sort out friendship problems and, crucially, provide me with a boyfriend. When all was going well, God was shelved and only rehabilitated when my needs required Him.

    You will notice as you read this first set of diary entries that I make very little reference to the world beyond my own sphere. Like many of my contemporaries, the events of 11th September 2001 (which I make reference to in Chapter 2), were my first real awakening to the fact that there were other things going on beyond than me and my life. However, at the start of my diary entries, my world vision was much narrower. I remember being vaguely aware that there had been something going on in Kosovo a few years previously and there was always the fact that my Mum said it was best to change Tube carriages if someone with an Irish accent got on, such was the ongoing fear of the IRA. Other than that, the world ended at the horizon of my line of vision and extended no further.

    So, we begin our journey into my growing up on 1st January 2001, with the all-too-familiar recitation of New Year’s Resolutions…

    1st January 2001

    Here starteth this journal! Below are my New Year resolutions:

    1. To write to Stephanie ¹ every Saturday

    2. To drink two glasses of milk each day

    3. To remember to brush my teeth

    4. Go for a run every Sunday morning

    5. TO GET A BOYFRIEND

    My pursuit in the last one may sound rash, but without meaning to be boastful, I think I am quite pretty. Today the family and I went into London to walk around a park. We did this, ate McDonalds for lunch and went home. Fun fun! I haven’t emailed Joshua² in ages, which makes me feel rather guilty and the battery’s run out on my mobile so I can’t check my messages. This is my first real diary and I hope it won’t be my last. According to Mum this year is the REAL new millennium, but I am not inclined to believe her. Last year it was really hyped up and I was dead excited, you know, got tarted up, rang all my friends etc. but this year? Not even a tiny little adrenalin rush. How CRAP! At the moment, I’m listening to my Gabrielle album and ‘Rise’ is playing. It is the one song that inspires me. It’s quite sad actually. Nicole³ always says I fancy Joshua. I really don’t know if I do. Sometimes I think I do, but right now I don’t know. I have to go now to test my 15-year-old sister on her three and four times tables. How pathetic.

    2nd January 2001

    Today: okay. I had to go twice with Mum to the recycling centre to get rid of all these things from the attic. I also wrote to Stephanie. School starts on Monday and luckily I’ve finished my Physics project. Liam⁴ did a prank call on me. Next time he does that I’ll tell him to grow up. My resolutions are working so far. I wrote to Stephanie even though its not Saturday, drunk two glasses of milk and brushed my teeth. But, I have not yet got a boyfriend. I suppose I’m pushing it, I only made the resolution yesterday! I shall make a special effort at the next school disco. Wait a moment, I need the loo… I’m back! I suppose Mum’s right; I do spend too much time on the computer. Well, here’s a new New Year’s resolution:

    1. I will only go on the computer at weekends and then for only half an hour a day. That’s one hour a week I reckon.

    I really ought to recharge my mobile battery. Heaven knows how many text and voicemail messages I’ve got! I think I’ll charge my phone tonight. I’ve read ‘The Secret Diary of Brooklyn Beckham’ for the second time and found it just as funny! I tidied my desk up today and had whole loads of junk to bin afterwards!

    3rd January 2001

    Even by my standards, today has been quite relaxing, but I haven’t achieved much! I’ll fill you in later. Later: Today was spent in Barnet. We went to the local shops etc. and mooched around. This entry is short because I did nothing today.

    4th January 2001

    Today was a bit more eventful than yesterday. Jenny went out to Bryan’s⁵ for the whole day so Mum and me went to Welwyn Garden City to shop in the Howard Centre. I bought a three-quarter length sleeved cotton, ‘Little Miss Naughty’ top, which is really nice and I’m probably going to wear it a lot. I’ve just taken down the tinsel in my room. It looks awfully bare now, especially around my mirror. Today I wasted £10 on a one-to-one SIM card, when I need BT Cellnet! Typical, but Dad bought it from me. If I ever get the chance, this is what I’m going say to Luke⁶ if he says something hurtful. Do you know what Luke, you’re starting to bore me. Your stupid comments about me have no affect and they’re untrue anyway. It may surprise you to know that I’m not a loser; I’m very popular at school. And if being cool means hanging around with you, I’d rather be the biggest loser in the world. Oh, one last thing, go to hell! We have just had a two-minute blackout, whilst Dad fixed the dining room lights. It’s really made me appreciate electricity, so I’m glad of it. Tomorrow I’m going to wear my khaki trousers and my new top, which should look rather cool. It is now 8pm and I want to check my emails. I think I’ll send Lisa⁷, Gemma⁸ and Nicole an e-card.

    5th January 2001

    Today I moped around at home and went to the shops. I bought ‘Bliss’ magazine and got a new bra, which is lacy! Dad got home at about 4.30pm and we headed off for South Wales. Natalie⁹ sent me a text and so did Liam. His was this dodgy poem about sex. This was my reply: ‘ARE YOU SOME SORT OF PERV?’. That should do the trick. When we arrived at Marriots St Pierre Hotel we discovered we were staying in Elder Lodge, where there are three little annexes in a building that looks like a detached house! We’re off to dinner soon.

    6th January 2001

    Today we came back from Wales after seeing Crewe Alexandra at breakfast in the hotel. One of them brushed past me! When we left we looked around some villages to see if they were increasing or declining for Mum’s work¹⁰. We also visited Pendarren where Mum takes a field study group each year. It is really pretty. In the car bound for home I got lots of strange and incoherent text messages from Natalie and Liam¹¹. I have finished reading ‘Sons from Afar’ by Cynthia Voight, it was very good. I can’t believe I’m actually keeping this diary without fail. It’s going be a good read at the end of the year. I’m looking forward to going back to school; it should be fun, despite my fears of Latin! I aim to make a little more effort in that subject this term. It’s nice to think that it’s only six weeks till I go skiing in Val Thorens with Louisa¹²! Jenny has just spilled red wax on the family room carpet, which cost eight hundred quid! P.S. I also got a black drawstring bag from Woolworths for school, so I won’t be left out!

    7th January 2001

    Sigh! The last day of the hols and a nice one at that. Yiayia¹³ came to lunch after church and I got into a sulk because Mum told me off for being mean to Jenny and I was shocked at myself when I gave Jenny a really horrible look when she tried to be nice to me. I was shocked. I don’t do that sort of thing! Then we had a laugh because Yiayia told us that deer cause fifty thousand accidents a year and shock old ladies to death. It isn’t really funny but the concept (whatever that is) was. Then we all went for a walk to look at big houses around Barnet. Yiayia and I walked together, her holding my arm. I played The Sims¹⁴ and printed off a front cover for my Physics project. That’s about it; the family and me are going to play Monopoly now. Sorry about the bad writing!

    8th January 2001

    Back to school today! For the first day back, today was all right. I was elected form captain and was pleased. Lessons were okay. Maria¹⁵ is being so spoilt. She just is! I don’t really like her at the moment. Daniella¹⁶ half bored me to death on the coach journey home, with endless tales of her holiday in Miami.

    Jenny has been reading these pages, here’s our conversation:

    (Setting: Dinner table, approx 7.30, food being served in kitchen)

    Jenny: I know what your news year’s resolution is, to get a boyfriend.

    Me: Have you read my diary? Jenny: (giggles) Only the first entry

    Me: Jenny, you’ve read it all haven’t you?

    Jenny: No

    Me: (angry) I won’t be angry

    Jenny: Ok, I’ve read it all.

    Rosie: (mental note: hide diary) I’ve read yours, ha!

    So that was that. I haven’t really read her diary, but I will, haha!

    9th January 2001

    Today has been very tiring. The lessons were long and hard and I’m too weary to write.

    10th January 2001

    Oh, my goodness, I was so embarrassed! When Mr. R.¹⁷ asked me to get down a Christmas decoration from the ceiling, my period had leaked onto my skirt. Everyone said I had ink on my skirt but I told Gemma, Lisa and Samantha¹⁸ and they were very sympathetic. Samantha’s started her period. I’m the first in our group of friends to know. It’s nice now that I’m not the only one. Lessons were okay. Geography was embarrassing, of course! Chemistry was all right; we did a practical about oxygen and had to breathe into this tube of limewater. Tomorrow I’m going to Quasar¹⁹ with Girls’ Association and Boys’ Brigade. I am fed up with everyone except Mariella and maybe Kara²⁰. The others are such gossipers! If Luke (or anyone else) says anything to me I will keep my cool and be sophisticated and ignore them. I have to go to sleep now.

    11th January 2001

    Today was the end of a hard and busy week. I did the auditions for the school play and think I may be in with a chance for a speaking role, which would be cool! I went to Quasar. I sat next to and had a nice chat with Mariella. I really don’t like Kara, I swear she whispers about me behind my back. Anyway, nothing left to say.

    12th January 2001

    Today I woke up at 8am! I have succeeded in revising both French and German. I think French is finally starting to click. I know what an infinitive verb is e.g. Je vais – I am going to e.g. Je vais aller a La Rochelle – I am going to go to La Rochelle. German is a bit trickier. I played on The Sims, which I might do again. I watched two episodes of The Simpsons and ate a whole packet of cherry drops. So far, I have broken every one of my New Year resolutions. I will get my chance for the last one on February 9th, because there is going to be a disco. Those dumb-arse British Gas people have broken our shower, which is just great because my hair needs washing! I really admire Mum; she had a really good go at them in her cool, polite way. I want to be able to do that! I’m not sure if we’re going to get a house extension. We’ve got a builder here at the moment. Personally, I hope we do. The house is so embarrassing! I have noticed that my handwriting is getting messier. I can hardly read this load of crap.

    13th January 2001

    Too boring to write about.

    14th January 2001

    Ditto.

    15th January 2001.

    Stressed! Got out a book on racism to commemorate Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

    16th January 2001.

    Woh! Finally, I have a chance to write. Yesterday, all hell broke loose, until I prayed and God cooled it down. Talking to Joshua is getting easier. We have nice little conversations now. Today I did four tests. Maths, German, Latin and French, all of which went okay. I am now making a cool mix tape²¹.

    17th January 2001

    My new Maths teacher is a right cow. She didn’t explain anything! Apart from that today was okay. So okay in fact there is nothing left to write.

    18th January 2001

    I was selected for goalkeeper in lacrosse, no surprises there, and saved three out of five goals. Words of praise from Miss. C²².

    19th January 2001

    Lacrosse match and practice cancelled (YES!) and so went home on the early coach.

    20th January 2001

    Went to choir rehearsal. Likely looking boy turns out to be v. ugly.

    24th January 2001

    I couldn’t be bothered to write for the past days. I can’t be bothered to write now.

    30th January 2001

    Today was okay, I can’t write until tomorrow, sorry.

    8th February 2001

    I am convinced that Lisa is going off with Amy²³ and that Samantha doesn’t like me! Oh well, I’m going to really be myself tomorrow, not plan what I’ll do and say, just act on instincts. The murderer of Lin and Megan Russell has been let out on appeal²⁴. The outrage! I am appalled at this act. I think I shall write to Josie personally and say how awful I think it is. I want to read Mizz now!

    9th February 2001

    DISCO ROCKED!

    11th February 2001

    I am smitten with Jake²⁵. I love him! Yahoo, Rosie rocks! P.S. Amy and I got high on Pepsi Max last night. She loves Lawrence²⁶, I love Jake.

    14th February 2001

    Jake was asked out by this girl at school today but thank the Lord that he said no because he fancies me. YES! I really fancy him. I’m so lucky that he fancies me back; I just hope it stays that way because I can’t see him until March²⁷. Sob! I love him so much! I do, I do, I do! I love him!

    15th February 2001

    Richard²⁸ is a sad little minger. He had the cheek to call ME (!) a two-timer. I mean, come on, I wasn’t even going out with him! Get real you little prat!

    19th February 2001 – skiing in Val Thorens, France.

    Louisa and I met these French boys at the play area. Louisa told an ugly one that she fancied him. There is one who looks like Matt LeBlanc. Oooooh!

    21st February 2001

    Louisa and I have this ongoing joke about boys. According to Sugar magazine, boys think about sex every eight minutes. So, whenever they look shifty, we say, ‘Eight minutes’. BUT! They worked out what it meant, DAMN!

    22nd February 2001

    I haven’t written properly in ages, oh well! We are in Val Thorens at the mo, with Louisa. She pulled the ugly boy with a six-pack. Apparently, it was crap. I still fancy Jake; I actually really miss him. THE PULL: Ok, I asked the ugly boy to pull Louisa. He said yes. I watched a bit, but then absorbed myself in a French poster. It was crap according to Louisa.

    23rd February 2001

    The last day and a nice one at that. Ski school was fun and I passed my test, so I now have my two stars. We had a really nice meal out and had a right laugh.

    24th February 2001

    I didn’t want to leave Val Thorens. We’ve had a really cool holiday, but it’ll be nice to see my friends and show off about how many red runs I did. Louisa has a crush on Caleb²⁹. He’s okay I suppose, but I don’t really fancy him. Before the coach left Val Thorens today me and Louisa went around this clothes shop in the sports complex. We both really liked these cartoon t-shirts, we both bought one. Hers says, ‘Nasty Girl’ and mine has a cartoon picture of a little girl with a snowboard. Talking of snowboarding, I might try it next year.

    I want to be a different person at school this half term:

    •Cool

    •Kind

    •Individual

    •Respected

    •Polite

    •Determined

    I really like club music now and I want to be a bit of a grunger. You know, big jeans, tight hoodies³⁰.

    25th February 2001

    Home, again!

    26th February 2001

    Fun old school starts once again.

    2nd March 2001

    Biology test, whoopee! Not.

    3rd March 2001

    Out with Jake! The date was fun. We didn’t pull or anything. We just had a laugh.

    31st March 2001

    I haven’t written in ages and sooooo much has happened. I have really gone off of Jake. I really fancy Anthony³¹ from church; he is in Year 9. Anthony knows I like him but he says he doesn’t like me. I don’t know though. Lisa is being a right bitch lately; oh well, it’ll pass.

    12th April 2001: School holidays.

    We’re in Majorca at the moment. We’ve done quite a lot so far. On the car journeys Yiayia who is on holiday with us, and I are having a right bitch about various people i.e. the Royal Family and crappy German cyclists. Yiayia gave one of the women the ‘V’ sign! I was amazed, Yiayia is eighty-seven! At school, Lisa is being very cold toward me, but I think everything will be okay after the holidays, everything always is. I really like Anthony. How am I going to get him to notice me?

    P.S. My New Year resolution number four has changed: 4. I will go for a cycle every Saturday morning³².

    P.P.S. Me, Jenny and Dad are going to go to New York in October! We will stay with Dad’s millionaire friends. They have their own speedboat and beach; cool!

    15th April 2001

    Today we went to a little church and saw a real monk, complete with brown habit. We then trotted around some prehistoric ruins and gawped at them. Correction: my parents gawped at them, Jenny and I merely looked. We had lunch in a seaside village and saw a fat woman with burnt nipples. Jenny and I then pretended our towels were babies (sad, I know!). Mine was called Mildred. There is a couple snogging near to this sunbed I’m on. In fact, they are EXTREMELY close to having carnal knowledge of each other! Another family has now blocked my view, typical! There is one likely looking lad near me, but he’s asleep, brilliant! Anyway, I’m baking hot, I’m going for a swim.

    17th April 2001

    Here is an advice list on how to be happy at school³³:

    1. Value your friends for who they are.

    2. TRY! At least then you will never regret your grades, if you’ve tried you have widened your options.

    3. Don’t take offences to heart, just ignore them.

    4. Don’t try to get pally with the ‘in crowd’. You’re all equal.

    5. Be polite to teachers. They’ll respect and trust you much more for it.

    6. Don’t show off, because everyone will look down on you because of it.

    7. Don’t get all cocky just because one person compliments your hair, looks, talent etc.

    8. Don’t fish for compliments and don’t give compliments to those who fish for them.

    9. Don’t yell out to all and sundry that you’re getting your hair drastically cut. It’s nice to surprise people occasionally!

    10. LISTEN to what others have to say and don’t interrupt.

    11. Don’t yell at everyone to listen to what you have to say.

    12. Remember that everyone has bad days so don’t get hurt if someone’s really irritable to you.

    13. Respect everyone and treat everyone equally. No one person deserves to be left out.

    14. Be honest, lying won’t help anything.

    15. Don’t immediately stress out when something doesn’t quite go to plan. Take a breather and think calmly.

    16. Don’t believe or spread rumours.

    17. Don’t bitch about people.

    18. Stand up for yourself and friends.

    19. Take the bitchiness, nastiness and malice in your stride.

    20. Always apologise when you’re wrong. You’ll be glad of it.

    21. Think before you speak and look before you leap.

    22. Make use of your talents, but don’t boast about them.

    23. Don’t let people run you down.

    24. By all means follow your heart, but don’t break others’ to do so.

    25. In times of chaos, think logically and use your common sense.

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