While I was in Brisbane a couple of weeks ago, I was happily driving my family around, which included my parents, when I noticed my dear darling Father kept looking over my shoulder at the speed I was travelling. I assured him that I knew how to drive and stick to the speed limit, and it occurred to me that I had, in fact, been driving for half of my life.

Way to make a girl feel old!

The year was 1997. People were flocking to cinemas to see the epic movie Titanic; “little” Johnny Howard and the Liberals were running the country; Tubthumping became the latest teen anthem, and this happy little blogger was in her final year of high school.

I always felt out of place in High School. I had a lovely group of friends, 4 of whom I’m still very good friends with today; I was very much involved in the music program, playing double bass, bass guitar and baritone sax; I did a lot of extra-curricular stuff like fund raising, school musicals when the school had them, played hockey and did tap dancing and jazz. But I never really knew who I was. I was a follower. I would always try and get cool hair cuts, but they always just ended up looking a bit boy-ish, or flick out uncontrollably once the hairdresser’s blow-dry wore off.

I didn’t really know how to talk to boys, so I would just try and make funny jokes that just weren’t funny, or I’d pay them out. While others were excited by it, I dreaded free dress day, as I had very little personal style, coupled by the fact that I was convinced I was vastly overweight (turns out, I wasn’t) and used to wear oversized clothes to hide my huge arse (that wasn’t actually that huge).

Side note, I love this conversation between Charlotte and Carrie on Sex and the City:

The problem was my head. I tried so damn hard to fit in that I was constantly worried about my actions and what I said and how I looked. I know that hindsight is a wonderful thing, and that no 17 year old has it all together, and that most of my insecurities came from comparing myself to others instead of learning to accept myself for who and what I was. Because, looking back, I was pretty awesome.

I wish I had a photo of myself back then to show you, but alas all those pre-digital photos are packed away in a box somewhere in the garage. Or in my mother-in-law’s garage.

I like to think I’ve come a long way in the last 17 years, especially when it comes to loving my body, knowing what hair cuts and clothes suit me, and how to talk to boys. I wonder what life-lessons I will learn in the coming 17 years, and beyond. Maybe I’ll finally understand how to work our damn media PC.

On a side note, I want all of these songs on our media PC. Well, most of them. Please? Hubs?