One. Maybe not the lonliest number
***September is my birthday month. In honor of that each day up until my birthday I will be sharing a picture of when I was younger. Along with that photo, I will attach something I would write to my younger self. If you are just joining in Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Prom is usually a happy time in a high school girl’s life. The anticipation of your crush asking you. Picking the perfect dress. Getting your hair and nails done with your gal pals. Being giddy as you get dressed for the event at your best friend’s house. Butterflies in your stomach, and being so anxious you nearly throw up before your date arrives at your house.
You waited on pins and needles for your crush(es) to ask you. Every day you picked a cute outfit so you would look perfect when he asked you. You even practiced your reaction of accepting his offer in your mirror at home.
As the weeks went on, you watched as your crush(es) asked someone else to the prom. Still being the hopeful optimist that you are, you went with mom to pick out a dress. Just in case you were asked, you had something to wear.
Well, you never did get asked. It seemed like everyone had a date but you. One of mom’s co-workers even offered to have her son take you to the prom. You quietly decliend with a lump in your throat. You didn’t want to be escorted by someone out of pity.
Not wanting to waste a perfectly good dress you tagged along stag with your friends. You posed for pictures with the group, and went to the dance.
You had a good time dancing on the floor with all of your friends. When the slow songs came on you darted for the bathroom, or the table to sit down. Your guy friend’s took turns dancing with you on some of the slow songs. On the outside you looked like you were having a good time, but on the inside you were weeping.
“What is wrong with me? Why did he ask HER instead of ME? Is it because I wear glasses? Am I not pretty enough? There must be something wrong with me. Even (insert random classmate’s name) got asked. There DEFINITELY has to be something wrong with me.) This was the internal dialogue that was running through our brain.
Little Donna, I want you to know there is/was nothing wrong with you. I honestly don’t know why you didn’t get asked. I know it hurt you like one thousand daggers to your heart. You must know that there are far better things out there. One dance in high school will not and does not define you.
Furthermore, having a date, being someone’s arm candy, or being in a relationship does not increase or decrease your value as a person. I wish you could have seen how funny, and brilliant you were. I wish we didn’t waste time comparing and basing our value on things that didn’t really matter.
Of course being in a healthy and fulfilling relationship will add much enrichment to your life. Down the road you will meet people who will be that person for you. So dry your tears, and smooth the tulle on that pretty yellow dress. You’re a dime piece, you just haven’t figured it out yet.