The Stuff They Don't Tell You

So, hello and welcome. Or, if I were trying to be cooler (as though I could possibly GET cooler) Hey, s'up?

Do people still say s'up? I mean, I'm 25. The window for being cool closed for me about eight years ago. I was even going to say 'How's it hanging?' I only just thought better of it, if I'm honest. I still say dude quite a lot. And boss. But boss is always a cool thing to say, right? Plus I say awesome a LOT. Although I do suspect these words get less and less cool every time I say them. It's like the pen of cool things is running out every time I fling one of these words into the world. I'm wasting cool ink every time I finish a sentence with dude. Dude.

It wasn't really my intention to start my blogging life with a dissection on whether I am cool or not. I already know the answer. And now, after reading that, I suspect you do too.

Actually, it was my intention to start my blog with an issue that I have been giving quite a lot of thought to over recent months. An issue that, if I had read a blog about when I was 16, might have made quite a difference to my life. Or not, because the very nature of what this blog will cover tends to be something we all would ignore until we live through it ourselves. (I've said blog too many times already. It's lost all meaning.)

Basically, what I want to talk about is the Stuff They Don't Tell You. The stuff all adults know, and just decide not to impart upon every generation of teenagers. It's like an unspoken rule. When I was 16, I believed a lot of things about the world that turned out to simply not be true. And I'm not talking here about Santa Claus and street magic. (Because these things, I'm certain, will turn out to be true.) I'm talking about life. Life and shit. And not the facts of life. I don't mean like wear a condom and wait until you're ready and alternate every alcoholic drink with water. Adults can't get enough of telling teenagers that. No, I mean that adults choose not to tell teenagers just how hard life is. They choose not to tell us to brace ourselves for what's coming. I don't mean this in some hardened, bitter way. Like I say, someone probably COULD have told me this and I'd have still had all my great days and still made every last one of my mistakes but maybe I'd have been just that little bit more prepared for it all when it came.

I think this mostly on two counts. One, professionally. Y'know, when I was doing my exams and writing my personal statement, I wish some miracle of science allowed my 25-year old self to come and put the hand on the shoulder of my 16-year old self and just say to her "Listen, Nic. Don't worry so much about this. You're not going to know what you want for another ten years anyway. You won't be ready for it until then. So pick English-you're awesome at it-and roll with the rest of it. And try and relax a bit while you're there. You'll be doing us both a favour." But instead I harassed my science teachers because I still wasn't sure that I didn't want to be a doctor, and I wanted to pick the same things my friends were picking because they knew what they wanted and then I wouldn't be on my own. The funny thing is that now, we've all ended up on the same path. Or at least, we're on paths that are so close that we can yell to each other about what the weather is like.

Second, relationships. I know. I know that this is ridiculous. I am going to try very hard NOT to sound bitter here. I think if anyone had tried, I wouldn't have listened anyway. I'm smart enough to  know that. At 16 ish, I was hopelessly and fruitlessly in love with a boy who didn't know I existed. If someone had told me a decade later, I'd be in the same boat, I know there was no way in hell that I'd have believed them. I believed love was the oxygen, the air, the heartbeat of the world. Really, I blame Keats for that. That fucker had me hook, line and sinker. What I've learned about love and relationships in the ten years since haven't always been easy lessons to learn. Certainly, my most recent lessons have unfortunately been more like revision classes of things I thought I already knew about love, and knew well. But I do wonder, had someone sat me down and just told me: "Love isn't the way you see it in your head. Sometimes you'll wonder if it's worth the trouble. It's going to mean getting hurt a lot. And it isn't defining, not like you think it is. You don't need to sacrifice everything to love someone. Love doesn't ask you to do that. Now go. Go and fall in love with men who will hurt you, men who will cheat on you, and men who will forget you. Let them hurt you, because no one gets out of love without picking up a few scars. You'll figure it out in the end," would I be carrying less scars?

Although I am facebook friends with the boy I loved when I was 15, so you never know. Facebook's good for those hindsight moments, isn't it? Those what-was-I-thinking-how-could-I-be-so-blind moments? Oh, Doug. I Hardly Knew Ye.

I know why adults don't tell kids this stuff. Because not only do kids not listen, but what would be the point of knowing? You're supposed to go in blind. That's the fun. You're supposed to make mistakes and feel scared or lost, or feel elated or be amazed at the things you do because you didn't think you were like that. You're supposed to fall in love with the wrong people. The whole point is that all of us, men and women, are kissing frogs until we meet our prince(ss). You're supposed to hate your job and find a bit of bravery to take a leap to do the thing you want, or eventually stop doing what you don't want. You're meant to not realise you're brilliant until you actually ARE brilliant. The fact that life is hard is kept secret with good reason. So, if you've got this far in the blog, shhhh. Don't tell.

You know what's scary? I'm 25. I'm worried what all those smug looking forty year olds aren't telling me.