I’ll be 25 in June. Goodness. I was looking at photos of me from a whole decade ago and well, let’s talk about then versus now, shall we?
Then: No waistline. Didn’t care. Kept eating.
Now: Struggling to pull jeans up. Skinny. Self-conscious.
Then: Goddamned unibrow and a spectacular handlebar mustache. (I’m kidding. It wasn’t spectacular. Okay, okay, it wasn’t handlebar either.)
Now: Hello, razor sharp bitch brows. Thank you, Anastasia Beverly Hills.
Then: 291541413 zits. Still eating.
Now: One tiny pimple. “OH MY GOD THE WORLD IS ENDING.”
Then: …staying up all night and waiting in line outside a bookstore, just to grab that new Harry Potter book.
Now: Buying makeup like a mad woman. When did I stop going to bookstores?
Then: walks up to hot dude, backs away, watches him date other girls. “Why would he date me? I’m fat. I eat. And eat. Meh.”
Now: DUDE walks up to Yours Truly. “Is it okay if we hang out?” Yours truly gives dude a look of deepest loathing and leaves. Heck yeah.
Then: Seven laters of clothing. Boob tape. Ashamed of even having a chestal area.
Now? Low cut shirts. Flaunting it.
Then: TOO many real friends. No competition. Jealousy? What jealousy?
Now: TOO much competition. No friends except on the ‘net. Jealousy? Oh why is she so rich and she gets all the nice stuff without even working and I slog?
Gross. I hate who I’ve become.
Goodness, where did those years go? Bring back that old Sooch.