Dear 14 years old me ..

          ..  Please stop being retarded. Your colleagues are stupid kids that you’ll never meet again and who will, most likely, experience major failures in any important aspect of their lives. So stop caring about what they say.

      Wear those braces ‘cuz shiny perfect teeth later, nomnom. And no, ofc boobs aren’t important. Especially 14 years old boobs, no one cares about them. So stop obsessing about that.

Also, don't lose your confidence. Remember you are head of your class because you are smart and because your teachers have seen the potential you have. So there's no reason to turn into a shy, non-confident girl who will later become socially awkward.
Do yourself a favor and don't tell those ugly guys that you like them, they are really stupid and they're not gonna make a difference in your life. You'll forget their names on your way from childhood to real life.
Don't be afraid to read a text in front of your classmates, you won't mess it up. You might mess up the math problem though but don't worry, sometimes it's ok to mess up on things you don't really care about.
Remember, you're smart and pretty. Don't let anyone else tell you differently, they are all wrong.

Sincerely,
25 years old you

We all know by now that kids are mean and stupid. They will laugh at you and make fun of you in the cruelest possible way, no matter what you do. They'll make fun of your name, finding silly rhymes that most of the time don't make any sense. They'll laugh at your clothes, at your size, at your glasses or braces. They will laugh at anything. Because that's what kids do ( I recently realized there's lots of "mature" people doing the same thing - another post will be dedicated to this). 

My first 4 years of school were ok, I'm not gonna lie. 7-10 or 11 years old is simply children fooling around. I was the smartest in my classroom so our teacher kindly introduced us to the wonder of hierarchy by promoting me to some sort of head of the class – I was responsible for kids to be quiet when the teacher left the class, I was checking to see if they wrote their homework and things like that.
Like any respectable kid in this situation, I soon got drunk with power and I turned into some fascist mini-leader, yelling (occasionally) and patronizing the other kids. Of course, some of them hated me. But I had my group of supporters, just like any leader.  Now that I think of it, I think I enjoyed school ‘til the 5^th grade. That’s when the shitty part started.

My teacher and the French tutor thought I was smarter than the kids in my class and that I had a natural talent for French – therefore I had to go to some special advanced French class. That meant passing a French test in order to transfer to the best classroom in my school. It also meant changing colleagues and, more importantly, losing my authority. Of course, just like any normal kid would do, I did my best to fail the French test so I could keep my old position during the 5^th grade. For some reason it didn't work though – somehow I managed to pass the test and I got transferred into the new class. 

Which turned out to be shit. At first, because no more power. And then because boobs; or chicks with boobs.

I think 5^th grade is when my socially awkward phase started.  I had to make new friends – and we all know how hard that actually is, especially when your options are limited and you get to pick from silly 11 years old. The new class already had its leader: some girl that was pretty much like me - evidently, less cool. She wasn’t a problem though – I tactfully assumed the leader position once again (ok, we might’ve shared it for a while), I got to check kids’ homework and all seemed to be going according to my master plan.

Except it didn’t.

 - to be continued -

L.